Guilty
by Red Hardy
Summary: When a serial rapist seems to be methodically working his way towards Bayport, Frank, Joe and Fenton join with nearby law enforcement agencies to stop him before he reaches their hometown.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was my firstever attempt at fanfic, written waaaaaay back in 2000-2001. I had intended it to be a stand alone story but it took on a life of it's own and was the beginning of what has become my own little AU Hardy Boys series. :-) This was written long before a helpful soul told me it was generally accepted to pick one character and stick with their POV. However, if I waited until I had time to go back and rewrite it correctly it would never get posted here, so I hope you don't get whiplash from the multiple POV changes. I apologize in advance if you do!

In this story Frank is 24 and has been married to Callie for six months; Joe is 23 and he and Vanessa are living together and engaged to be married. Both boys have graduated from college and joined Fenton in his practice. Also, I write strictly Hardy Boys so if you're looking for Nancy, she's not here.

The story is already completed so there's no need to worry it'll be abandoned halfway through. Chapters will be posted every two days – at least that's what I'm shooting for. Hope you enjoy it. :-)

**PLEASE NOTE** This story contains mature themes and subject matter! 

Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did I wouldn't be working for a living! I just like to take them out and play with them for a while. I promise to put them back in relatively good condition when I'm done. ;-)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 1**

Vanessa Bender squealed with a mixture of fear and excitement. The 23-year-old blonde was face down on a sled flying down a snow-covered hill. Squinting to avoid the bits of snow flying up from the runners of the sled, she could see her tall, blonde fiancé at the bottom of the hill, waving his arms wildly at her. It took only seconds for her to reach the bottom and come gliding to a stop a few feet past him.

Joe Hardy ran to the sled grabbing Vanessa around the waist and scooping her up. "Yahoo! You were great, Babe!" he exclaimed swinging her around in a circle.

She threw her head back laughing and extended her arms and legs catching the momentum as Joe started swinging her faster. Seconds later he collapsed in the snow with Vanessa landing on top of him.

"That was great!" Vanessa shouted excitedly. "Come on, I want to do it again!" She started to push herself up.

"Whoa, slow down!" Joe said pulling her back down. "What's the hurry?" He put his hand behind Vanessa's neck and pulled her in close for a kiss.

"Oh, please, get a room!" a female voice called out teasingly.

Vanessa lifted her head and looked over at her best friend, Callie Hardy. 

"Jealous?" Vanessa asked, eyes twinkling. "After all, you _are_ an old married woman now." Six months earlier, Callie had married Joe's older brother Frank Hardy.

Callie crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Tsk, tsk. Children!" she said with mock seriousness. She felt arms sneaking around her waist and her husband leaned forward whispering in her ear. "Maybe the children have the right idea."

Leaning back against Frank's chest, Callie eyed him slyly. "Why, Frank Hardy. I think your little brother is rubbing off on you!" While Joe eagerly showered affection on Vanessa every chance he got, Frank was not big on public displays of affection. 

Frank shrugged and smiled. "Must be the snow. It brings out the romantic in me," he said leaning in for a kiss. Just as their lips touched Frank felt something cold and wet slam against the top of his head. Callie jumped back to escape the flying snow. Frank was momentarily shocked but looked up as he heard Joe howling with laughter.

"I haven't lost my touch!" he said high-fiving Vanessa who was laughing at the expression on Frank's face.

"Oh, so that's the way it's gonna be, huh?" Frank gave his brother a murderous look.

Joe quickly pushed himself to his feet. "Uh, oh. I know that look. Come on!" He grabbed Vanessa's hand and took off at a run with Frank and Callie in hot pursuit.

Stopping just long enough to scoop up a handful of snow, Frank chased his brother through the snow. Shaping the snow into a perfect ball he stopped, took aim and let the snowball fly. Vanessa let out another shriek of laughter as the snowball sailed right between her and Joe, close enough for her to feel it swoosh past her cheek. Feeling Joe pull on her hand they veered off to the right towards a stand of trees. Joe weaved in and out among the trees dragging Vanessa behind him until he found what he was looking for. 

When they had arrived at the park earlier in the evening a group of young boys were engaged in a fierce snowball fight. Joe had eagerly joined them for a few minutes and in the heat of battle, the young boys had taken him to the snow fort they had built for themselves. Joe once again located the snow fort and pulled Vanessa down behind it with him. Immediately he began stockpiling snowballs, waiting for his brother to show himself. Looking at the pile of snowballs continue to grow, Vanessa giggled softly. _'Frank and Callie don't stand a chance!'_ she thought.

"Ssssh." Joe's sapphire blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned over and kissed her. Before Joe knew what was happening he was pulled to his feet and shoved face first against a tree. He felt something very cold and very wet start to trickle down his neck. His jacket was pulled back by the collar, almost choking him. He inhaled sharply as he felt the freezing snow against the skin on his back. 

"Hey!" he cried out, flailing his arms behind him trying to stop the assault of snow to no avail. As his shirt filled with melting snow, he heard his brother chuckling. Satisfied that Joe had been paid back for his sneak attack, Frank released his brother and stepped back.

"As usual, Joe, when you think with your heart and not with your head you get into trouble." He looked down at his younger brother with mock superiority. "And once again, I win."

Joe unzipped his parka and pulled his shirttail out to let the rapidly melting snow escape.

"Yeah," Joe replied, laughing. "But my woman can still take yours!" he said pointing to where Vanessa had Callie pinned to the ground and was pushing snowballs down the back of her jacket. He leaned closer to his brother. "Five bucks says Callie cries 'uncle'!" he said teasingly.

"Don't let Callie hear you say that," Frank replied walking towards the two girls. "She'll have your head!"

"Enough! Enough!" Callie could barely get the words out she was laughing so hard. "I give up!"

Vanessa stood up and offered her friend a hand. Still lying in the snow balancing on one elbow, Callie looked up at Vanessa's considerable height. At five feet, eleven inches tall she was only an inch shorter than Joe. Shaking her head, Callie thought _'I never had a chance.'_ She took Vanessa's hand allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

"Sorry, Cal," Vanessa apologized with a smile, helping Callie shake the snow out from under her jacket. "Guess I got caught up in the moment!"

Joe sidled up next to Frank with a smirk on his face. Silently he held out his hand, palm up.

"What's that all about?" Callie eyed Joe suspiciously.

"Nothing," Frank replied giving his brother a dirty look. He brushed the last remnants of snow from Callie's hair and then took her hand. "Why don't we stop by Java City on the way home and get something hot to drink? Joe's buying."

"Hey!" Joe cried in protest. Vanessa laughed out loud, linking her arm through Joe's. 

"Come on Big Spender, I'm getting cold."

oooOOOooo

Entering the Java City Café the two couples looked around for an empty table. It seemed as if everyone in Bayport had the same idea – the place was packed with customers.

Joe's blue eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. "Hey, there's Biff and Karen!" Holding tight to Vanessa's hand, he easily weaved his way through the crowd, stopping at his friend's table.

"Hey, guys, mind if we join you?" Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed an empty chair and sat down. As Frank and Callie claimed the last two chairs, Vanessa looked down at Joe questioningly and raised her eyebrows. He smiled devilishly at her patting his legs.

"Right here, Babe. Have a seat."

Vanessa rolled her eyes and blushed slightly, sitting on Joe's lap. He immediately enveloped her in a big hug and whispered something in her ear causing her to giggle.

Callie watched the couple with more than a little envy and sighed inwardly. There was no doubt in her mind that Frank loved her with all his heart. In their own home, he was more than generous with his affection but in public, he rarely showed how he felt with physical gestures. At times she was a little put off by the amount of affection Joe and Vanessa shared in public but she also found herself wishing Frank wouldn't be so cautious about expressing himself in public. She knew he was much more reserved than his demonstrative and wildly outgoing younger brother, _'But just once in a while…'_ she thought glancing at Joe who was now alternately hugging Vanessa closely and rubbing her arms to help her warm up.

As if reading her mind, she felt Franks hand close over hers on the table. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Looking into his warm brown eyes, she was once again reminded of how much she loved him and how happy she was to be his wife.

Hearing Joe's best friend Biff Hooper and his girlfriend Karen Allen laughing brought her back to the present. Joe was gesturing wildly and she realized he was relating the story of the chase and snowball fight to the couple. In their teen years, Joe and Callie had not always gotten along. Frank insisted it was because they were so much alike – something both Joe and Callie vehemently denied. Over the years, though, as she had gotten to know Joe better and saw how close he and Frank were, her attitude toward Joe softened. She knew Joe worshipped his older brother and would do anything for him. On several occasions, Joe had put his own life on the line to protect his brother. He had even put himself in danger to rescue Callie more than once.

Involuntarily, she flashed back to the day Iola Morton, Joe's first girlfriend, was killed. It was the one time Joe was not able to save someone he loved; and it was the day she lost her best friend. Initially, she blamed Joe for Iola's death although she never said so out loud. However, watching him deal with the guilt in the years that followed made her realize he was hurting much more than he let anyone know, even Frank.

Gradually as her grief lessened, she admitted to herself Joe was not responsible for Iola's death. From that point on, she had tried to be there for Joe on the days she knew would haunt him – Iola's birthday; the anniversary of the day she died. She would call him to reminisce about Iola or send him a card to let him know she remembered and shared his grief. She never mentioned this to Frank and as far as she knew, neither had Joe. It was something they shared and even though he never said so, she knew Joe appreciated the effort. Thinking back on that horrible day she shuddered.

Frank, still holding her hand, felt it. "Are you okay?" he asked looking at her with concern.

"Yeah," she quickly blinked back the tears. "Just cold I guess." 

Vanessa looked over at her. "I'm so sorry for putting all that snow down your jacket, Cal." She jerked her head towards Joe. "I guess I've been hanging out with him too long!"

Joe looked hurt and started to pout. "A guy tries to have a little fun and look what happens." He looked to Vanessa for sympathy but she smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Oh, please!" She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't give me those puppy dog eyes."

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "It was worth a shot!" He then shifted his gaze to Frank and pointed a finger at him. "By the way, you still owe me five bucks!"

"Don't go there, Joe," Frank warned him with a sidelong glance at Callie. That was the second time that evening Joe had made a gesture or remark about Frank owing him money. Judging by the smirk on Joe's face, Callie had a feeling it had something to do with her and she was not going to like it. Callie was just about to say something to Joe when a harried looking waitress finally appeared and took their drink orders. As she walked away, Karen cleared her throat. 

"Do you guys knew anything about that serial rapist down in Kirkland?" she asked gesturing at Frank and Joe.

The lighthearted mood at the table suddenly turned serious. Frank sighed heavily and Joe looked down at the table. He was often teased for his chauvinistic attitude but he could not stand any type of violence against women; as far as he was concerned, the crime of rape was unconscionable. His blue eyes clouded over and the look of anger on his face was evident to everyone at the table. Vanessa shifted in his lap so she could put an arm around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, whispering something to him no one else could hear.

"Actually," Frank began, watching his younger brother warily, "We met with the detectives in charge of the case yesterday. One of them is an old friend of Dad's. Normally, the police don't call in outside help but this guy has struck in Angel Beach, Southport and Kirkland. The media is having a field day and the public is outraged. So Detective Kroner, Dad's friend, called and asked if we would give them a hand." Frank and Joe had always planned to open their own detective agency when they graduated college. But when the day came that Joe finally got his investigators license, their father asked them to join his practice. Hardy Investigations officially became Hardy and Sons, Investigations and Fenton Hardy could not have been more proud.

"The Kirkland detectives have been working with the Angel Beach and Southport police departments and have even asked Chief Collig to loan them some officers."

Callie gasped. Frank had not told her that last night when he came home and she did not like the sound of it. "Are they afraid he's going to strike here next?"

"Over my dead body!" Joe said angrily.

Vanessa lifted her head and pushed a lock of blonde hair off his forehead. "Don't worry, hon. You'll catch him. He won't hurt anyone else. After all, the Hardys have never let us down before," she said trying to cheer him up.

"Thanks, Babe," Joe replied giving her a grateful smile. _'What did I ever do to deserve you?'_ he thought to himself.

The three couples chatted for quite a while, catching up on each others lives. The café had almost emptied by the time they left. As they walked towards their cars, Frank touched Joe on the arm to get his attention. Joe's mood had obviously changed when the serial rapist was brought up. Joe had tried to cover it up, but Frank knew he was still bothered by it.

"Don't worry," he said quietly. "We _will_ catch him."

Joe nodded and smiled, appreciating Frank's attempt to cheer him up.

"See you tomorrow," Frank said as he watched Joe walk towards his car, his arm protectively wrapped around Vanessa's shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** My apologies to anyone who has gotten another alert for these two chapters. For some reason when I posted this story the first time, it could only be accessed via the link in the email alerts; it was not visible on the HB/ND story page. So I deleted it and I'm trying again. Hope it works this time:)

Guilty

Chapter 2

Joe shot straight up in bed, staring out into the darkness in absolute terror. His heart was racing and his breathing was coming in short, labored gasps. He was visibly shaking but could not remember the nightmare that had just awakened him. It felt as if a cold hand were squeezing his heart and he was close to tears. _'This one was bad. Really, really bad.'_

He knew this one had not been the recurring nightmare where he watched his car go up in flames taking Iola Morton with it. Even after all these years he still had that nightmare, albeit less frequently than before. He had long ago resigned himself to the fact that the day Iola died would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. It had actually gotten to the point where he knew what would trigger that horrible dream. Her birthday and the anniversary of the day she died were the obvious ones. Slowly, over the years, he had become acutely aware of the other ones. Every four years during the Presidential elections he could count on an increase in the number of times he had that dream. Seeing a yellow car like the one he and Frank drove at that time was another trigger. Meeting a woman named Val was a surefire guarantee he would be rudely awakened in the night.

This one tonight though, the one that had evoked this reaction was different. He actually found he was grateful he could not remember it, given not only the terror he was feeling but also the overwhelming feeling of hate and rage. Joe's short temper was legendary but he could not recall ever feeling the degree of hatred he did right now and it scared him. He had no idea what his over active imagination had come up with this time and he had no desire to find out.

He felt a hand on his back and nearly jumped out of his skin. _'Relax,'_ he commanded himself. _'It's just Vanessa.'_ He knew exactly what would happen next and thanked God once again for bringing Vanessa into his life. If not for her being there to get him through the aftermath of these nightmares, he felt he would have lost his sanity long ago.

"It's ok, Baby," she murmured in a low, soothing voice. "Just a bad dream. Everyone is safe."

Vanessa gently pulled him back down. He immediately curled up beside her laying his head on her shoulder. She pulled him close, absently running her fingers through his hair. As she continued to reassure him in a soft, comforting tone that those he loved were safe, she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. _'This one was bad,'_ she thought. _'Much worse than usual.'_ Joe was still shaking and could not seem to stop. In the past two years, she had grown used to Joe sometimes waking up in the night, often crying out in anguish. When this happened she never asked him what it was he had dreamt about; she knew it usually revolved around the day Iola was killed. 

Sometimes though, when a case he was working on was particularly brutal, he would dream about his father or brother being seriously injured or killed while he stood by watching helplessly, unable to prevent it. Those were the nights he would tell her about the dreams, needing her reassurance that everyone he loved was indeed safe. Tonight though, he was not talking. In a way, Vanessa was glad. She was not at all sure she wanted to know what induced such a strong reaction from Joe.

After several minutes Vanessa's breathing became slow and even. Although she still held him close, Joe knew she had fallen asleep. Joe, however, stared out into the darkness, eyes wide open. There was no way he would be going back to sleep tonight. He replayed Vanessa's soft voice in his head over and over again, telling him everyone was safe. She was always there for him when these nightmares occurred and thankfully never once asked him for details. If he needed to talk about them she would hold him close and listen, but never, ever asked about them should he choose to remain silent. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. '4:02 a.m.' glowed in red. _'Only a few more hours until day break.'_ Joe thought staring at the bedroom window. He had no intention of closing his eyes again. 

Over the next few hours, the terror of whatever he had dreamt about refused to let go. When the pitch darkness started to turn a light gray, indicating the sun would soon start to rise, he removed Vanessa's arms from around him being careful not to wake her and got out of bed. He went out to the living room and lay down on the couch turning on the television and lowering the volume. For the next few hours, he methodically searched the channels looking for anything to distract him from the terror that still gripped him. Never in his life had he had such an intense reaction to a nightmare. He did not even want to contemplate what he could have possibly dreamt about.

By the time Vanessa wandered out of the bedroom later that morning, Joe was on his third cup of coffee. Rubbing her eyes, she curled up next to him on the couch.

"Morning, Babe," Joe said kissing the top of her head. "Want some coffee?"

"Not yet, thanks," she replied watching him closely. His hand shook ever so slightly as he worked the remote, not really seeing anything that appeared on the television screen. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

"Sure, I'm fine," he replied with a little too much enthusiasm. "It's Saturday. We can spend the whole day together, doing whatever we want. What's not okay about that?"

After six years together, she knew the signs. He had no intention of talking about what had happened during the night. She knew it must have continued to bother him long after she had gone back to sleep. He was rarely up before she was during the week and never on the weekends.

"You got me there. So what do you want to do today? Are we meeting Frank and Callie for breakfast?"

"Uh-uh." He shook his head finally turning off the television. "We're going to see them tonight anyway. Why don't we just spend a quiet day at home?"

Warning bells went off in Vanessa's head. There was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground outside, it was going to be a perfect winter day and Joe wanted to stay cooped up inside? Something was definitely not right. She recalled the drastic change in his attitude the night before when Karen had brought up the serial rapist. _'Maybe this case is bothering him more than I realized.'_

As Joe had suggested, they spent a quiet day at home alone. Vanessa had to admit she enjoyed having Joe all to herself for once with no distractions, instead of being caught up in the whirlwind of activity that usually followed him wherever he went. By late afternoon, they were getting ready for the surprise party his parents were having for Frank and Callie. The following day was their six-month wedding anniversary. Laura Hardy had told Frank and Callie she wanted to have a small family dinner to celebrate. In reality, she had planned a surprise party for them, inviting all their friends and many of the people who had attended the wedding. Joe and Vanessa arrived early to help Laura and Fenton get everything set up.

"Wow, everything looks great!" Vanessa exclaimed as she and Joe walked into the kitchen of the house where Joe grew up. Laura and Gertrude Hardy, Fenton's sister, were putting the finishing touches on the food to be served. "What can we do to help?"

Laura looked up from the tray of food she was working on. Immediately she knew something was bothering her youngest son. "Gertrude, can you show Vanessa where the last of the decorations are so she can put them up for me?" she requested.

Gertrude led Vanessa to the living room lecturing her on the precise method she should use to hang the decorations. Joe had to suppress a laugh, feeling sorry for his fiancée.

"What can I do, Mom?"

Laura wiped her hands on a towel and walked around the counter to stand next to Joe. "You can tell me what's bothering you," she replied in a no nonsense tone looking directly into his tired blue eyes.

"Mom, I'm twenty-three years old. I'm not a baby anymore," Joe said a little embarrassed.

"I don't care how old you get, young man," she replied, then smiled. "You'll always be _my_ baby. Now out with it. What's wrong?"

Joe sighed. "Honestly, Mom, I'd like to tell you what's bothering me but I can't."

She looked at him questioningly but remained silent.

"I had a dream last night – a nightmare, I guess."

"Iola?" she asked sympathetically.

"No, something else. I don't know exactly what I dreamt about but…" he hesitated, his voice almost a whisper. "It scared me, Mom. I mean really scared me."

Looking at Joe now, Laura saw the little 6-year-old boy who would flee to his older brother when the monsters invaded his dreams at night. She recalled going in to Frank's room many times to wake him for school only to find Joe huddled safely in his older brothers arms. Over the years the nightmares became less frequent and seemed to have stopped completely by the time Joe had reached his teens. All that changed when Iola died. Those nightmares returned with a vengeance only now the monsters were real. However, since he was older Joe felt he could handle them on his own and rarely sought comfort from anyone, which deeply concerned Laura. She held her arms out and Joe gratefully accepted the hug from his mother.

"I've been trying to remember all day. It just spooks me that something could terrify me like that and I don't even know what it was. I've always been able to remember my dreams. Even when I'd rather not," he chuckled.

Laura stepped back and reached up to touch his cheek. "Maybe you shouldn't even try to remember it, honey. Just let it go."

Fenton had walked into the kitchen a moment earlier and over heard the conversation between Joe and Laura. 

"Your mother is right, son," Fenton said putting a hand on Joe's shoulder. "You know many times people who are involved in serious accidents or victims of traumatic events never remember the details of what happened to them. The subconscious protects them from things that it deems too traumatic to remember. Sounds like you're having the same reaction. I know it's easy for me to say, but try not to worry about it." 

Joe nodded, thinking about what his father had said. 

"With that imagination of yours, God only knows what you were dreaming about!" Fenton joked. "Remember, it was just a dream, not real life. Unfortunately, the occasional nightmare comes with the job. I've had some real doozies myself!"

"You, Dad?" Joe asked, surprised.

"Yes, me. Your brother, too. So, you're not alone in this. Try to relax and enjoy yourself tonight. You've got a reputation to uphold, you know." Joe was known as the life of the party and was often the center of attention at the gatherings he attended. "Just try not to outshine Frank and Callie too much; after all it is their party," Fenton concluded with a laugh.

Joe reached out, putting his arms around his parents, who held him close. 

"Thanks," he said quietly. _'Sometimes it's good to be the baby,'_ Joe thought smiling. Whatever had caused him to wake up in a panic the night before was fast becoming a distant memory.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So my good buddy Phx pointed out the error of my ways as to why I couldn't find this story on the main page even though the links in the alerts worked. We'll just say I'm an idiot and I'll wear the dunce cap for a while. :p Again my apologies to those who got multiple alerts for the same two chapters. Thank you for your patience as I continue to learn exactly how this site works!

Pandora: I actually wrote this seven years ago, before any of us even knew there would be a Sam and Dean Winchester but yeah, you're right! I can so see Sam pulling those puppy dog eyes on Dean! :p

TraSan: Thanks! I love my Joe angst! :p

Whashaza: Thanks, That makes me feel a little better!

**Guilty**

**Chapter 3**

It appeared as though everyone who had been invited to the party had accepted. The Hardy home was packed with people waiting for the guests of honor to arrive. Vanessa had spent the evening helping Laura and Gertrude attend to the guests, making sure they all had enough to eat and drink. As she moved through the room chatting with everyone, she kept an eye on Joe. Earlier, when she had finished hanging the decorations as Laura had asked her to do, she had returned to the kitchen for further instructions. She saw Joe and his parents discussing something in earnest. They appeared to be trying to comfort and reassure Joe and she had not wanted to interrupt. She assumed he had told them about the nightmare that had him so out of sorts. _'Whatever they said must have worked,'_ she thought. _'He seems to be back to his old self.'_

Joe flashed her a smile from where he stood at the window, keeping an eye out for Frank and Callie. Glancing back out the window he called out, "Hey, they're here!"

Fenton turned off the lights in the living room and dining room as everyone became quiet. Laura approached the front door just as it swung open.

"Hi," she greeted them. "Happy anniversary! Joe and Vanessa aren't here yet. Why don't we sit and talk for a few minutes until they get here?" Putting one arm around Frank and the other around Callie she nudged them towards the living room.

"Thanks for having us over, Mom," Frank said as he reached for the wall to turn on the living room lights.

"SURPRISE!"

Without even thinking, Frank immediately shoved Callie and his mother behind him to protect them from what he assumed was some unknown danger. A split second later he realized there was no danger, only family and friends, some of whom were now doubled over with laughter at his automatic reaction to the surprise.

"Don't feel bad, Frank. It comes with the job," Fenton told his older son, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, man that was great! I hope you got it on video, Chet!"

Frank turned towards the voice, and glared at Joe who was laughing so hard a few tears threatened to spill over and run down his cheeks. He advanced on Joe without a trace of smile on his face. Joe made a concerted effort to stop laughing and straightened up as Frank approached him. Frank stopped just inches from Joe.

"So" he said in a low, menacing voice. "I make a fool of myself and you think it's funny?" The room suddenly got very quiet.

Hard as he tried, Joe could not keep a straight face. "Uh-huh," was all he managed to get out before he once again burst out laughing. No longer able to keep a straight face himself, Frank also began laughing out loud. An audible sigh of relief was heard from a few of the guests as Joe pulled Frank into a bear hug.

"Congratulations, big brother! You've made it through a half a year of marriage. Only about 65 more years to go!" Looking over Franks shoulder he caught Callie's eye and gave her a wink.

"Oh, great! Out of all the men in the world I get stuck with _him_ for a brother-in-law," Callie joked.

Releasing Frank, Joe reached out and gave Callie a hug. Leaning down he whispered in her ear, "You and Frank were made for each other. I'm proud to have you for a sister-in-law." Callie hugged him a little tighter before letting go. As she stepped back he continued in a low voice, "And if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it until the day I die."

Callie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and a warm smile. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

"Hey, you've got your own man, get your hands off mine," Vanessa said jokingly as she moved forward to hug her friend. "Congratulations!"

Soon Callie and Frank were swept up in a sea of congratulations and good wishes from everyone who came to help them celebrate, with many of the older couples offering them advice on the secrets to a long and happy marriage. Even when they were separated they would look at each other across the room making their love and happiness apparent to everyone in attendance.

Vanessa watched them from where she sat with Joe by the fireplace. "Do you think we'll be that happy when we get married?" When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him. He was staring at her shaking his head slightly as if he couldn't believe she had just asked that question.

"We already are, Baby," he said huskily and leaned in to give her a long, lingering kiss.

When he finally pulled back, smiling at her, Vanessa was glad to see the smile was also reflected in his eyes. _'I guess he's forgotten all about that dream,'_ she thought, happily. This time she was the one who initiated the kiss.

Joe and Vanessa sat talking quietly by the fireplace, seemingly in their own world. From where he stood on the other side of the room, Frank watched his younger brother and future sister-in-law.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Callie said squeezing his hand.

"I was just thinking how glad I am that Joe finally proposed to Vanessa," he replied not taking his eyes off the couple. "She's perfect for him. After Iola died I honestly thought he'd never really get over it. Vanessa completely turned him around. I haven't seen him this happy since…" his voice trailed off. "Well, in a very long time."

"Mmm-hmm," Callie agreed. "And no one deserves it more than he does."

Frank turned to look at his wife. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were actually fond of Joe," he said only half jokingly.

"Who, me? Fond of Joe?" she said trying to sound indignant. "Your little brother is a macho, chauvinistic, Neanderthal. What in the world would make you think I was fond of him," she finished with a teasing smile.

Turning back to Vanessa and Joe, Frank saw his father talking quietly with Joe who then stood up and tried to get everyone's attention, without much success. He then put two fingers to his lips and the room was filled with a loud, piercing whistle, followed by complete silence.

Vanessa covered her face with her hands. "Oh, I can't even imagine what our wedding is going to be like."

"Don't worry, Babe," Joe grinned at her. "People will be talking about it for years!"

Vanessa separated her fingers to peer at Joe out of one eye. "That's what I'm afraid of!"

The room erupted with laughter.

Smiling, Callie rolled her eyes at Frank. "He's _your_ brother!"

Joe picked up his wine glass and held it high. "I'd like to make a toast to my big brother and his bride. Frank, growing up with you as a brother has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. You've always been there for me when I needed you and even a few times when I didn't!"

Frank laughed, shaking his head. "I had no choice. Mom and Dad would have killed me if I ever came home without you."

"I've learned a lot from you about life, about caring, about helping people, about being a good person. No one deserves more happiness than you. Callie, thank you for always being there for Frank, for making him so happy and for putting up with all the intrusions into your life, especially the ones from his annoying little brother." Joe waited for the laughter to subside. He looked at Frank, his eyes shining with pride and admiration. "I hope when I get married I can be half as good a husband as you are." He held his glass out towards Callie and Frank. "Congratulations. May the rest of your married life be as happy as the first six months."

Everyone clapped and once again began congratulating Callie and Frank.

Vanessa brushed a tear from her eye and kissed Joe on the cheek.

"That was beautiful. And there is no doubt in my mind that you will be a wonderful husband."

"Thanks, Babe," Joe blushed.

Chet Morton, Frank and Joe's childhood friend had been videotaping the event at Laura's request. He walked up to Joe, the video camera dangling by his side.

"Hey, that was a great toast. Didn't know you had it in you, Champ!"

Joe pretended to be hurt. "I can be serious when the occasion calls for it. Lucky for me that isn't too often!"

"Hey, it's supposed to snow a few more inches tonight. Tony, Biff and I are driving up to Stone Mountain tomorrow to do a little snowboarding. You two want to come along?"

Tony Prito was another childhood friend of Frank and Joe who now helped run his family's restaurant, _Prito's_, the most popular Italian restaurant in Bayport.

Joe looked at Vanessa, who nodded. "Sounds great. What time do we leave?"

"Around eight. We can stop for breakfast and still be there by nine-thirty. Conditions are supposed to be awesome!" Chet waved Tony and Biff over so they could firm up their plans for the next day.

Fenton stood in the entranceway to the living room talking with Bayport Police Chief Ezra Collig, Detective Con Riley and Jeff Kroner, his long time friend who had requested the Hardys help in tracking down the serial rapist.

"You know, Fenton, your boys have been responsible for more than a few of my gray hairs but you have every reason to be proud of them," Ezra said. "They've grown into fine young men."

"Here, here!" Jeff seconded. "And they've certainly taken after you. Is there any case they haven't been able to solve?"

"Unlike their old man, Frank and Joe have solved every case they've taken on," Fenton beamed with pride.

Their conversation was interrupted by Jeff's beeper going off. He looked at the message and frowned.

"Can I use your phone?" he asked Fenton.

"You can use the one in my office," Fenton pointed down the hall.

"I hope that's not what I think it is," Con said, his eyes following Jeff down the hall.

Less than a minute later Jeff reemerged looking grim. He stood in the office doorway and jerked his head, indicating he wanted the three men to join him.

They followed him back through the reception area, down a hall and into Fenton's private office and closed the door. Jeff didn't waste any time.

"There's been another rape."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. They are very much appreciated. :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 4**

The four men looked at one another grimly. Jeff then looked down and began reading from his hastily scribbled notes.

"Female, approximately 30 years old. On her way home from work; stopped at the bank to deposit the day's receipts. Got out of her car to use the bank depository. Walking back to her car she was grabbed from behind and hit with a blunt object, which was not recovered. She remained conscious – barely – and was transported by car to the old train station that closed down last year. Removed from the car and carried to the platform at the rear of the building where she was sexually assaulted. Found by some college kids walking along the tracks. Now at Kirkland Memorial Hospital with scrapes, bruises on her wrists and a concussion."

He flipped the small notebook shut and looked up. "That's six women in three different towns in the last three weeks. Damn, why can't we catch him!" He sighed in frustration, then continued. "I'll go to the hospital now and talk to her; see if she can remember anything that can help us. Can we get together tomorrow and I'll fill you in?"

The other men nodded in agreement. Jeff turned to Fenton as they left the office. "We probably don't need to bring Frank and Joe in on this until Monday. Let them enjoy the rest of the weekend."

"Thanks," Fenton smiled gratefully. "We'll see you tomorrow then."

Jeff left for the hospital as Fenton, Ezra and Con rejoined the festivities. Laura approached her husband with a look he knew all too well.

"You're not leaving too, are you?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

"And face the wrath of Laura Hardy?" Fenton joked. "Not a chance."

"Has there been another one?"

"Mm-hmm. Jeff is going to see the victim now. Ezra, Con and I will meet with him tomorrow. I'm not bringing the boys in on it until Monday."

"Good. By the way, when are you going to stop referring to them as 'boys'? They are grown men, you know."

"Maybe when you stop referring to Joe as your baby."

"Touché," Laura smiled ruefully as Fenton kissed the top of her head.

They looked at the room full of guests who were now being entertained by Joe's animated retelling of Frank's bachelor party.

"Earlier tonight Ezra said they had grown into fine young men and we had every reason to be proud of them. I _am_ proud that they decided to follow in my footsteps, even if they are turning out to be better at it than I am."

"That's only because they learned from the best," Laura squeezed his arm.

"More than anything they've done, I'm proud of their relationship. I have never seen two brothers who are closer than they are. After everything they've been through together, I don't think there's anything that could ever come between them."

Laura nodded in agreement, smiling at the obvious affection her two sons had for each other.

oooOOOooo

Several hours later, after the last of the guests had left, Laura was trying to convince Frank and Callie to go home.

"You are not supposed to clean up after your own party! Besides, Joe and Vanessa volunteered to stay and help me."

"_Joe_ volunteered to clean?!" Frank asked incredulously.

"I think it was more like Vanessa volunteered him," Fenton chuckled.

"I don't know about that," Callie said. She stood at the entrance to the living room, peering into the semi-darkness. "It doesn't look like there's a whole lot of cleaning going on in there right now."

Frank, Laura and Fenton joined her and peeked into the living room, which was now lit only by the glow from the fire in the fireplace. Minutes earlier Joe had rummaged through his parents CD collection, telling Vanessa he could not clean without music to distract him. As Vanessa continued to pick up discarded plates and napkins, depositing them into a large trash bag, Joe had put a disc in the CD player and turned off the lights. They were now wrapped up in each others arms, dancing slowly, oblivious to the four pair of eyes that were watching them.

"Why don't we let them have their privacy, hmm?" Laura said quietly. She herded the other three back to the kitchen, Joe and Vanessa never having noticed them.

In the living room, Joe and Vanessa slowly swayed to the music, with Joe softly singing along serenading his fiancée. As the song ended Joe pulled away just enough to look directly into Vanessa's eyes.

"How long has it been since I told you how much I love you?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, at least an hour," Vanessa smiled. "You're overdue."

Joe leaned in closer and whispered, "I love you, Baby."

Vanessa wondered, as she had so many times in the past, why Joe never let anyone else see this side of him. He was always openly affectionate with her in front of his family and friends, but never in the gentle, romantic way he was when they were alone. Then again, she liked knowing there was a part of himself Joe didn't share with anyone but her.

Holding Vanessa close, Joe realized once again how lucky he was to have found love twice in his life. After Iola was killed, he was sure he would never love anyone like that again. He had been awfully hard on himself for never telling Iola how much he loved her before she died. He had assumed, as most seventeen-year-olds would, that there was plenty of time for that in the future. Once he realized he had truly fallen in love with Vanessa, he promised himself not to make the same mistake with her. He took advantage of every opportunity to tell Vanessa how much he loved her and never let a day go by without telling her exactly how he felt.

oooOOOooo

The rest of the weekend flew by much too fast. Monday morning found Joe in his mother's kitchen giving her a very spirited recount of his adventures at Stone Mountain the day before. After making himself a cup of coffee, Joe finally joined Frank in their father's office. It had been expanded when Frank and Joe officially joined his practice, but most discussions still took place in Fenton's private office. Fenton was sitting behind his desk, on the phone. Every so often he would make notations on the pad in front of him.

"Hey, Bro! How was the anniversary celebration?" Joe said with a mischievous smile. Sitting in one of the leather chairs, he threw a leg over the arm of the chair and gazed steadily at his brother, waiting for a response.

"Very nice, thank you," Frank smiled.

"Very nice? That's it?"

"Yes, that's it. Joe, it was our six-month wedding anniversary. What are you expecting – details??"

"Well yeah," he grinned, eyes twinkling. "I'll be celebrating some of those myself one day. I need to be prepared."

"Somehow, I don't think you'll be needing any advice from me."

"Seriously, how was it? Did Callie like the earrings?"

Frank smiled remembering the look of shock on Callie's face when he had given her the present he had picked out. That was followed by squeals of delight when she opened the diamond stud earrings that matched the diamond necklace Frank had given her on their wedding day.

"Yes, she loved them," he smiled at the memory. "So how was your day? What did you and Vanessa do?"

"We went up to Stone Mountain with Tony, Biff, Chet and their girlfriends. Skiing, snowboarding, snowmobiling – it was awesome!"

Frank smiled at his younger brothers enthusiasm. If there was speed, excitement or danger involved, Joe wanted to be right in the middle of it.

Hanging up the phone, Fenton cleared his throat and looked pointedly at his younger son. "Glad you could join us," he teased, arching an eyebrow. Joe was definitely not a morning person.

"I'm here now, Dad," he winked. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Fenton's voice became serious. "I'm afraid there was another rape."

Joe's smile instantly vanished. "When?"

"Saturday night." He picked up the pad he had been writing on and flipped it back to the first page. "A female, approximately 30 years old. She was on her way home from work and stopped at the bank to deposit the day's receipts. She had gotten out of her car to use the bank depository. As she was walking back to her car, she was grabbed from behind and hit with a blunt object. She remained conscious and was driven to the old train station that closed down last year. She was removed from the car and carried to the platform at the back of the building where she was sexually assaulted. Some college kids walking along the tracks found her."

"Let me guess," Frank concluded. "No witnesses and the weapon hasn't been found." He sighed. He knew the details and the patterns by heart.

"Exactly like the others."

"What's this one – number six?" Joe scowled.

"Yes. I met with Jeff, Con and Chief Collig yesterday." Fenton held up a hand as Joe attempted to protest being left out of the meeting. "Joe, I know how badly you want to catch this guy. But you had plans with your friends yesterday and Frank had plans with Callie that couldn't be changed." He smiled at his older son. "Don't worry, you didn't miss much."

Joe seemed somewhat pacified as Fenton continued. "I want the two of you to go to Kirkland this morning." He looked at his notes again. "The Four Seasons Shopping Center. Kirkland National Bank. That's where she made the deposit." He shuffled some papers around and came up with a photograph. He pushed it across the desk. Frank picked it up and studied it as Joe stood up to look over his shoulder. An attractive woman with brown hair and deep brown eyes smiled back at them.

"She parked right in front of the bank. See if she or the assailant might have dropped something when he grabbed her. The bank and most of the stores were closed but ask around anyway. There is a restaurant at the other end of the shopping center that was open." Shaking his head, he looked at his sons. "Six rapes and no one has seen a thing. He hasn't made one mistake. Unfortunately, this guy is really good."

Frank and Joe exchanged glances. They weren't used to seeing their father so frustrated by a case.

"After you're done there, go to the train station. Go over it with a fine-toothed comb. I'm not saying the detectives didn't do their jobs, but you might pick up something they missed. When you're finished, head over to the Kirkland Police Station. Everyone involved in the investigation will meet at noon and compare notes. There will also be a profiler there from the FBI. Hopefully she can tell us something new. We have to stop this guy before he strikes again." His next words gave the brothers chills. "If I'm reading his pattern right, his next victim will be here in Bayport."


	5. Chapter 5

Pandora: Those are two of my favorite lines, too! :p

Cheryl: I have no doubt you know the details of Frank and Callie's relationship in my stories better than I do! :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 5**

Frank pulled up to the deserted train station and cut the engine. Getting out of the car, he walked behind it and came to a stop next to his brother. They gazed up at the rapidly deteriorating, red brick building. "I hope we have better luck here than we did at the bank. I don't want this guy anywhere near Bayport."

Nodding in agreement, Joe followed his brother to the platform at the back of the station.

"You start over there," Frank pointed to the opposite end of the platform. "I'll start here and we'll meet in the middle."

Thirty minutes later, Frank was standing back in the middle of the platform with nothing to show for his search but a look of disgust. Judging by the look on his brother's face, Joe's luck hadn't been much better.

"Anything?" Frank asked hopefully.

"Nothing," Joe replied with a frown. "Unless you want to count this."

He held up a torn piece of paper, gingerly holding on to the very edges of it.

"What is it?"

"Beats me. But it's the only thing that hasn't been here forever. I wouldn't have noticed it at all except the wind blew it out of the doorframe behind that bench."

Taking a small, plastic bag from his pocket, Frank held it open. Joe dropped the torn paper into the bag and watched as Frank examined it.

"Looks like some kind of ID card." The front of the card was off white with large red letters on it. "M-E-N…what's that next letter?"

"An 'S' maybe? Hard to tell."

Turning it over, Frank looked at the back of the card trying to make out the small letters. "Clay something." He sighed in frustration. "I guess it's better than nothing. Lets head over to the police station. It's almost noon."

"I hope this is a lunch meeting," Joe said as they walked back to the car. "I'm starving."

Frank smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "You're always starving! I don't know how Mom and Dad didn't go bankrupt having to feed you all those years."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy!"

"Well, get in the car, Growing Boy, or we're going to be late."

The brothers soon arrived at Police Headquarters in Kirkland. They were directed to a large conference room where officers and detectives from four different cities were milling about. Scanning the room for his father, Frank's eyes stopped on a large table in the corner. Chuckling, he shook his head and looked at his brother.

"They obviously knew you were coming." He grasped Joe's shoulder and spun him around, giving Joe a full view of the endless trays of food spread out on the table. Giving Joe a little shove towards the table he said, "Get something to eat. I'll find Dad." He walked away, still laughing to himself.

Walking through the room Frank finally spotted his father talking with Chief Collig and two other men. He approached the group and was introduced to the two men.

"Frank, this is Ben Grayson, Chief Detective here in Kirkland. And this is Jason Brock, head of the Special Victims Unit in Southport." Frank shook hands with both men as Fenton continued. "This is my older son, Frank." Looking around he asked, "Where's Joe?"

"Where do you think," Frank replied with amusement.

Chuckling, his father asked, "Did you find anything?"

"We don't know." Frank pulled the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over to his father. "Joe found it at the train station. Other than being torn, it's in pretty good shape. Couldn't have been there for more than a few days. It was stuck in the doorway behind the bench on the platform."

"That's exactly where the rape occurred," Ben Grayson said. "Behind the bench. Victim said when the guy stood up his wallet fell out of his pocket. Just about everything fell out of it. He wasn't happy about it. Had to stop and pick everything up." He took the bag Fenton held out to him and looked it over. "Maybe he missed something. You and Joe can check this out and let us know if you turn up anything?" he asked Frank.

"Yes, sir," Frank replied.

"I better get this meeting started," Chief Grayson said, handing the plastic bag to Jason Brock who examined it and returned it to Frank.

Chief Grayson walked to the front of the room and began the meeting by introducing the various officers and investigators involved. He briefly recapped the events with all the relevant details, mentioning the torn card Joe had found at the train station, and then motioned for Fenton to join him.

"I think you all know Fenton Hardy," he smiled at Fenton. "I'll let you take it from here."

Fenton Hardy addressed the group, referring to a map of the area that had been tacked up on the wall. It had colored pins sticking out of it, each indicating the different locations of the six rapes.

"At first glance, the attacks seem pretty random. But if you look at each city, individually, you can see how the pattern starts to emerge. The first attack was in Angel Beach; just one victim." He moved his finger a little further up the map. "Next he moved on to Southport, which is exactly 25 miles north of Angel Beach. Two victims this time. Now he moves on to Kirkland, which is exactly 25 miles north of Southport. Three victims here; the last one on Saturday night. Assuming he continues in this manner, his next assault…" he moved his finger a little further on the map before continuing. "…will be in Bayport, the city 25 miles north of Kirkland. This time he will be looking for four victims."

Frank and Joe exchanged worried glances now fully understanding why their father had said the next victim would be in Bayport. As Fenton was finishing up, the door opened and a petite woman dressed in an understated but figure hugging business suit, slipped in. He smiled and motioned for her to join him at the front of the room.

"I'd like to introduce Special Agent Heather Wells. She's a profiler on loan to us from the FBI. She spent the weekend going over everything we have. Hopefully, she'll be able to give us a new perspective. Heather?" he said turning the meeting over to her.

Joe looked at the woman in amazement. She had long blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and an easy smile that revealed a perfect pair of dimples. Without taking his eyes off her, Joe leaned over to his brother and whispered, "If all the agents look like that, I think I'll be joining the FBI."

"I'm sure Vanessa will be happy to hear it," Frank teased, earning him a dirty look from his brother.

"As Mr. Hardy said, I've read all the information you've collected so far," Heather began, "And I don't envy you. As you have found out, he is a meticulous planner. He is very methodical in his attacks and does not make mistakes. He has found what works and does not take any unnecessary chances. You are dealing with an extremely intelligent individual; someone with a very high I.Q. – much higher than normal."

She continued speaking but Frank was no longer listening; for some reason he had focused in on what she had just said. _'A very high I.Q. Much higher than normal.' _Frowning in concentration, he tried to figure out why those words were nagging at him. Joe's harsh whisper broke into his thoughts. "Come on, Frank – give! I can practically see the wheels spinning in that brain of yours."

"I don't know…something about the high I.Q." He concentrated a moment longer, then shook his head. "Maybe it'll come to me later," he said returning his full attention to the pretty young woman.

"Unfortunately, with this particular type of profile, they rarely, if ever make a mistake. They are usually caught when you are able to determine their pattern. The drawback of their extremely high I.Q. – for them - is that it gives them a false sense of security. It never occurs to them that an average police officer could break their pattern." She smiled at the quiet laughter from several people in the audience. "From what I can see, your best bet is going to figure out what his patterns are and use them against him. You are one step closer to catching him now that you know where he will strike next. I doubt he will make any mistakes, though, so your next step will have to be breaking the pattern of when he attacks. It isn't random; he has planned everything else. He will have planned that too," she concluded.

"Thank you, Heather," Chief Grayson said moving to stand next to her. "You've been very helpful." He turned back to the group and concluded the meeting.

"Anything else?" he asked and waited a moment. "Okay. Then as we agreed when we met last week, everyone will continue to work on the cases within their own jurisdiction. All new information will be sent here where it will be added to the report. Everyone will receive a daily update. We'll meet again on Wednesday at noon, unless something comes up before then. Thank you all for coming and keep up the good work."

As the meeting broke up, Frank and Joe rejoined their father.

"So unless this guy is caught soon, his next attack will be in Bayport?" Joe asked his father.

"I'm afraid so, son."

Joe looked from his father to his brother, worry clearly evident on his face_. 'Mom; Vanessa; Callie; Aunt Gertrude; Andrea…they're all potential victims!'_ Looking at his brother again, he knew Frank was thinking the same thing. Silently, he turned and left the room.

Frank exchanged a quick glance with his father then followed Joe out the door.

Fenton Hardy's thoughts mirrored those of his sons'. He suddenly felt a chill, and said a silent prayer for a speedy end to the investigation as he made his way out of the building.


	6. Chapter 6

ShinigamixGirl: Sorry for the slight delay in posting this chapter. My niece spent the weekend with me and I took her shopping for a prom dress today. I just got home and this is the first chance I've had to get online pretty much all weekend.

Cheryl: I'm working on your quiz! :) I think your comments are even more enthusiastic the second time around! LOL!

Pandora: Writing Frank and Joe's relationship is my favorite part of any story. I'm glad you enjoyed that aspect! :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 6**

Wednesday morning found the brothers headed for Angel Beach. They had spent the past day and a half trying to find the origin of the torn card Joe had discovered at the train station. No one was even sure it had any bearing on the investigation, but it was the only thing that had turned up that could even remotely be considered a clue.

They'd had no luck at all in their search and become discouraged at the lack of progress. Armed with a copy of each victim's statement, they were now visiting all six crime scenes. It was hoped they might turn up something that had previously been missed.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Joe glanced at his older brother. Over the past few days Joe had become increasingly worried that his mother, Vanessa, Callie or some other female he loved dearly would become the next victim. His overprotective concern was starting to wear on everyone and had resulted in a heated argument between him and Frank the night before. Recalling a few of the things he had angrily shouted at Frank, he slid down a little lower in the seat, his conscience getting the better of him. Since Frank had picked him up earlier that morning, they hadn't spoken more than a few words. Deciding that anything was better than the uncomfortable silence, Joe finally spoke.

"Did you see the game last night?"

"Nope."

"Oh." Joe thought a moment and tried a different approach. "Did you install that new program on your computer? The one Vanessa found for you?"

"Yup."

"So how is it working?"

"Fine."

Joe's very limited patience had quickly run out. "Come on, Frank! I apologized last night – even for the crack about the pocket protector! What more do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Then why won't you talk to me?" Joe yelled.

Frank glanced at his younger brother and smiled. "Because sometimes watching you squirm is just too entertaining to pass up."

Joe stared at his brother, open-mouthed, causing Frank to howl with laughter. Scowling at his brother, Joe snapped his head forward.

"Well, I'm glad you find me so entertaining. Maybe I should start charging you for my company," he replied, sulking. At the somewhat hurt expression on Joe's face, Frank felt guilty – but only a little.

"I'm sorry, Joe," he continued, attempting to keep a straight face. "But you set yourself up for it. And that crack about the pocket protector was pretty rude."

"Yeah, that was one of my better insults," Joe smiled.

"I didn't mean that as a compliment!" Frank said in exasperation.

"But I'll take it as one," Joe smiled again.

"You're amazing," Frank shook his head. "How is it that you can turn any situation around to your own advantage?"

"It's a gift," Joe said smugly, feeling much better.

"Unbelievable," Frank muttered. "Hey, here's the exit for Angel Beach. What do the directions say?"

Consulting the directions their father had given them, Joe guided Frank to the site of the first rape – an old beachfront hotel that had closed down several years earlier. The clear blue sky and bright sunshine gave the false impression of a warm day ahead. Getting out of the car, the brothers were hit with a cold wind coming in off the ocean. They quickly made their way to the front of the hotel. The door was banging against the doorframe in time with the blowing wind.

Stepping inside, Frank turned on the powerful flashlight he had brought in. "Check her statement, Joe; where exactly did it happen?" he asked, while sweeping the beam of light over the room. Everything was coated with a layer of dust, dirt and sand.

"Never mind," he continued, focusing the light on a corner of the room where the dust on the floor had obviously been disturbed. He slowly moved the light across the floor until it was hovering near his feet. There was an almost clean path on the floor from where they stood at the door to the spot in the corner of the room.

"Guess that's to be expected with the police, EMT's, investigators and everyone else who has been in and out of here since the rape." He started to follow the path then stopped when he realized Joe wasn't right behind him. Turning back, he saw his brother leaning against the closed door, looking past him towards the corner of the room.

"Well, are you coming?" he asked a little impatiently. Even with Joe leaning against the door, keeping it closed, the biting wind was making its presence known through various cracks in the walls and a few broken windows. Frank wanted to get the search over with and return to the warmth of the car. He retraced his steps back to the door and stopped. The look on Joe's face was a mix of horror, fear and terror. "Joe? What's wrong?"

Joe shook his head as if trying to dislodge an image only he could see. "God, she must have been terrified," he said quietly, a slightly haunted look in his eyes.

Frank put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to sit this one out? I can do this myself if you want to wait in the car," he said with concern.

Joe hesitated a moment, then the haunted look in his eyes turned cold, the terror disappearing as quickly as it had come. He looked at Frank and blinked. "What are we waiting for. Come on let's check this place out," he said and walked quickly to the corner of the room.

Frank was stunned. It was as if Joe didn't even realize what he had just said and done. Something about this particular case was very obviously getting to him. With increasing concern for his younger brother, Frank made a mental note to talk to his father that evening.

Together they walked across the room and began their search, frequently referring to the victims statement to make sure they did not in advertently overlook something. An hour later the brothers returned to the car frustrated, having found nothing that could help the investigation.

"Maybe we'll have better luck in Southport," Frank said optimistically.

"Yeah, right," Joe replied, dejectedly, staring out the side window.

"Don't worry, Joe. We'll find him. It may take a little longer than we're used to but we will find him."

"And how many more women are going to be raped before we do?" he said irritably. The rest of the drive to Southport was made in silence, each of the brothers lost in their own thoughts.

Upon exiting the freeway, Frank made his way to Southport's waterfront district, turning towards the huge storage containers where incoming freighters offloaded their cargo. Passing the impressive, newly constructed storage facilities, he glanced at the huge cranes unloading the freighters docked at the port. Continuing on to the opposite end of the waterfront, he was amazed at the change in the landscape. A five-year renovation project had been completed the previous year, with the bigger, more modern storage facilities they had just passed. This end of the waterfront, now abandoned, had quickly become a desolate, decaying area inhabited only by mice, rats and cockroaches.

Getting out of the car, Frank pulled up the collar of his jacket in a feeble attempt to keep the frigid gusts of wind at bay. He waited for Joe to join him and then led the way to the rusting metal storage containers. Recalling what he had read on the victim's statement, he walked past three storage containers and turned left. Instantly the biting wind was gone as Frank and Joe found themselves in a narrow, isolated passageway between two towering containers.

"Agent Wells was right; this guy is smart. He chose spots so completely isolated no one would ever hear these women scream."

"And all in areas that have recently been shut down and replaced with new buildings in a different part of town," Joe said with some enthusiasm. "So if we can just figure out when he's going to strike next, we can narrow down where to look for him."

"There can't be all that many places in Bayport that have recently been shut down and replaced with newer facilities somewhere else!" Frank replied picking up on Joe's train of thought. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed their father. "Ow!" he exclaimed, pulling the phone away from his ear. "Too much static between these containers. Start looking around; I'll be right back," he said walking back out into the open.

Joe began walking towards the far end of the narrow strip of cement but abruptly stopped near the middle. Squatting down, he peered at a dark, rust colored stain on the ground. _'Blood,'_ he thought sadly, remembering this particular victim had suffered not only a concussion but a skull fracture as well. He carefully looked at the area surrounding him, hoping for some kind of clue but found none. As he stood up, Frank reappeared at the far end of the storage containers.

"Dad said the meeting today was cancelled. No new information has turned up so they decided to postpone it," Frank said as he approached his brother.

Without saying a word, Joe pointed to the ground at his feet. Looking at the spot Joe indicated, Frank sighed and shook his head. "She was the most seriously injured of all of them, right?"

"Skull fracture and grade five concussion," Joe recited from memory what had been on the police report. "She's still in the hospital."

"Let's finish this one up," Frank said checking his watch. "We should have time to grab some lunch before we check out the last site here and still beat the traffic home."

By late afternoon, they were on their way back to Bayport. The final crime scene they had to check that day, a high school that had been closed two years earlier due to the opening of a larger school several miles away, also held no new information. They were discussing the case in detail, which resulted in nothing but a new level of frustration. The ringing of Joe's cell phone was a welcome interruption. Looking at the number revealed by Caller ID, he smiled.

"Hey, gorgeous!" he answered the phone.

"Back at ya," Vanessa laughed.

Joe's smile grew even wider. Nothing could bring him out of a bad mood quicker than hearing Vanessa's bubbly laughter.

"I was just wondering if you knew when you might be home tonight?" she continued.

"We're on the way home right now. I'll probably be there before you. But don't make me wait too long, okay? I miss you."

"I miss you too, Baby. Barring any emergencies, I'll be home right on time. See you then."

"Okay. I love you, Van."

"Love you too, hon. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up and returned the phone to his pocket. "What?" he said, noticing the smirk on his brother's face.

"Nothing," Frank said, the smirk melting into a genuine smile. "It's just nice to see you so happy."

"It's nice to _be_ so happy," Joe replied, returning his brothers grin.

oooOOOooo

Vanessa tapped her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Staring at the long line of brake lights ahead of her, she sighed.

"This isn't an Interstate; it's a parking lot!" she said in frustration.

She popped out her favorite CD and tuned the radio to the local news station. Within minutes she learned there was a jack-knifed tractor trailer blocking the highway up ahead causing the miles long back up. Slowly she inched her way into the right lane following yet another long line of cars to the exit ramp.

Once off the Interstate, she quickly made her way to the back road that would take her home. She often took this quiet road home in the spring when she could put the top down on her Jeep and enjoy the warm weather; or the fall when the intense red, yellow, and gold colors of the changing leaves always left her in awe. She liked the fact that there was never much traffic on this road, unlike the Interstate which more often than not resembled a racetrack or, as it did tonight, a parking lot.

Popping the CD back in, she absently sang along while she thought about what to make for dinner. She hadn't gone grocery shopping that weekend like she usually did so she knew there wasn't a whole lot to choose from. Smiling, she knew it wouldn't take much persuasion at all on her part to talk Joe into going out for dinner. Abandoning the mental list she had started of what meager offerings might be in the refrigerator, she began a list of her favorite restaurants instead. _'Sorry, Joe, no Mr. Pizza tonight. I want a real dinner!'_

The little Jeep suddenly began to slow down. Thinking she must have inadvertently eased up on the gas, Vanessa pressed down on the pedal a little harder. The Jeep continued to slow down as she watched the speedometer steadily decrease. As she eased onto the shoulder of the road a red light on the dashboard suddenly began flashing on and off warning Vanessa to "Check Engine".

"Now you tell me!" she said hitting the steering wheel in frustration. Seconds later the engine sputtered and died. She pressed the button to turn on the flashers and reached for her purse. Pulling out her cell phone, she pressed the speed dial for Joe's cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

"Hey, Baby, where are you? I'm starving!"

"I'm on Becks Pond Road," she responded, the frustration evident in her voice. "My Jeep decided now would be a good time for a little 'R and R' and suddenly stopped."

"Are you alright?" Joe asked anxiously.

"Yes, I'm fine," she reassured him. "Just stuck!"

"Where are you, exactly?"

"I just passed that huge farm. You know the one where the horses are always out grazing in the field?"

"Okay. Turn on your flashers and lock the doors. I'm on my way."

"Thanks, hon."

"Listen, don't get out of the car."

"I won't," she said dutifully.

"And don't open the door or roll down the window for anyone."

"I won't," she repeated, shaking her head and smiling.

"I'll be there soon. Love you, Baby."

"I love you, too."

Vanessa returned the cell phone to her purse and laughed softly at Joe's long list of instructions. _'Lock the doors; turn on the flashers; don't get out of the car; don't open the door; don't roll down the window…'_ She had half expected him to tell her not to take candy from strangers. _'I guess I'd rather he be too over protective than not care at all.'_ She settled back in the seat and stared out the window into the darkness, watching a lone car pass by every so often.

A short time later she reached across the passenger seat and opened the glove compartment pulling out the flashlight Joe had insisted she keep there. Shining the beam of light on her watch, she realized Joe would be arriving any minute. Returning the flashlight to the little compartment she was startled by a knock on the drivers side window. _'Right on time,'_ she thought.

She reached back over her shoulder to unlock the door. Her hand froze on the lock as she looked out the window. The person staring back at her was definitely not Joe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Guilty**

**Chapter 7**

The man staring back at Vanessa was wearing a baseball cap pulled down low concealing his eyes. The collar of his jacket was turned up, further obscuring his face.

"Car trouble?" the man asked. Vanessa couldn't tell in the dark but he seemed to be smiling at her.

"Yeah. It just stopped," she replied.

"I can give you a ride to the nearest service station, if you like," he offered.

'_Don't get out of the car.'_ Joe's voice echoed in her head.

"Thanks, but my fiancé is on his way. He'll be here any minute."

"I see. That's good." The man glanced up and down the deserted road as if looking for something. "If you open the door I can pop the hood and take a look while you're waiting for him."

"That's really nice of you to offer, but like I said…"

"Your fiancé is on his way," the man finished.

"Yes. He is," Vanessa said forcefully.

The man didn't respond. He stood staring at Vanessa for a moment then reached out and rested his hand on the door handle. Without taking her eyes off the stranger, Vanessa quickly scrambled into the passenger seat, fumbling for her cell phone. Suddenly a bright beam of light illuminated the man's face. He stepped back and quickly turned away before she could get a good look at him.

"Hey, buddy, that's pretty bright. Do you mind?" he said facing away from the light.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do mind." At the sound of Joe's voice, Vanessa let out the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She had been so distracted by the sudden appearance of the stranger that she hadn't noticed Joe pull up behind her.

"You must be the fiancé," the man said, still not looking at Joe.

"Must be." Joe's voice was cold and hard.

"Well, I guess you won't be needing my help."

"Guess not." Joe had kept the flashlight trained on the man's head though he never turned to face Joe.

The man quickly walked towards his car, which was parked several yards in front of Vanessa's Jeep and got in. As he pulled out onto the road, Joe aimed his flashlight at the license plate. Although the rest of the car seemed to be spotless, the license plate was covered with mud. His instincts kicked in immediately as he made a mental note of the meager details. _'Dark color. Black or blue. Late model. Lexus? Audi? Dark jeans. Dark jacket, collar turned up. Dark baseball cap pulled low.'_ He shook his head in disgust at the lack of information.

Turning back to the Jeep he reached towards the door handle, keys in hand. Before he got close enough to unlock the door, Vanessa flung it open and jumped out, throwing her arms around Joe's neck. He put his arms around her pulling her close.

"It's okay, Baby," he said holding her tightly. "He's gone."

Joe looked up as a pair of headlights approached the couple. Keeping one arm around Vanessa, he motioned for the vehicle to pull in front of the Jeep. Vanessa looked up and recognized the tow truck driven by Joe's friend Todd Whiting who owned the busiest car repair center in Bayport.

"Get your things out of the Jeep. You can wait in my car, oay?" Joe said.

"Okay," she nodded.

Joe waited until she had pulled everything she needed out of her Jeep and then walked her back to his car. Using the remote to unlock the door of his Mustang, he held the door open as she slid into the passenger seat.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." He leaned in and kissed her. As he walked towards the tow truck he extended his arm back and used the remote to lock Vanessa inside the car.

Leaning back against the headrest, Vanessa realized just how scared she had been. Watching as Joe and Todd disappeared behind the raised hood of her Jeep, she recalled the recent newspaper articles she had read about the serial rapist. _'Angel Beach… Southport…Kirkland. Too close for comfort.'_ She knew Joe, Frank and their father were assisting the police in trying to catch him, but that was all she knew. Joe had not talked about this case at all with her. She did not press him for information or ask any questions. Knowing that Frank and Joe had solved every case they had ever taken on she was confident it was just a matter of time before they solved this one also. Hearing the click of the lock she looked up as Joe slid into the drivers seat.

"Well?" she asked. "Is my Jeep going to live?"

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled. "Couldn't tell much in the dark, but Todd doesn't think it's fatal. He'll call tomorrow when he knows what's wrong." Joe looked back over his shoulder and smoothly pulled out onto the road. "So, what's for dinner?"

oooOOOooo

A few hours later, after dining at _Prito's_ Italian restaurant, Joe steered his car out of the parking lot and on to the main street of downtown Bayport.

'_I'll have to ask her sooner or later,'_ he thought glancing at Vanessa. _'I need to know exactly what happened. I hate to upset her, but if it's the same guy…' _He grew angry at the thought _'Damn, she could have been his next victim!'_

"Joe? Is something wrong?" Vanessa asked noting the look on his face.

Stopping for a red light he turned to look at her. "I need to know what happened tonight. Exactly what happened. In detail."

"Okay," she shrugged her shoulders. "A little while after I called you, I checked my watch to see about how much longer you'd be. I used that flashlight you put in my glove compartment, by the way. Thanks for insisting on that. It came in handy tonight," she smiled at him.

"When I leaned over to put it back, someone knocked on the window. I assumed it was you and reached back to unlock the door." She noticed him tense up slightly but continued. "Luckily I noticed in time that it wasn't you," she smiled reassuringly.

"It was that guy. He asked me if I was having car trouble. I felt like saying _'Why no, I just thought I'd pull over and enjoy the scenery!_'" she said sarcastically. "What an idiot. Of course I was having car trouble! Why else would I be sitting on the side of the road in the dark?!"

Joe chuckled, but said nothing.

"I told him yes and he offered to drive me to a service station. Yeah, like I would be stupid enough to hop into a car with a total stranger! I told him I had called my fiancé and expected him to be there any minute. He didn't seem too happy about that. Then he said if I opened the door, he could pop the hood and take a look while I waited for you. What, I'm not capable of popping the hood myself?!" She crossed her arms, scowling out the window.

Joe suppressed a laugh at her new found anger at the man.

"Then he put his hand on the door handle, like he was going to try and open the door. It was locked, for God's sake! What did he think he was going to do, rip it off the hinges?"

'_He touched the door handle?!'_ "Damn," Joe swore under his breath.

"What?" Vanessa asked, confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Babe, you didn't do anything wrong," he answered. _'But I did. Why didn't I ask her about this right then and there? How could I be so stupid? How many people have touched that door handle since then? Me, Van, Todd…who knows who else once Todd got it back to the shop!'_ He realized, with disgust, any fingerprints the stranger may have left would be obliterated by now.

"That's when you showed up and saved the day," Vanessa said lightly, as Joe pulled into the parking space below their apartment. She leaned over and batted her eyelashes at him with great exaggeration. "My hero," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, brother," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

Vanessa burst into laughter as Joe exited the car and walked around to open her door. Walking to their apartment he threw an arm around her and thought, once again, how much he loved the sound of her laugh.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Joe was on the phone, dialing his parent's number.

"Hello?" Laura answered.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey! How are you?"

"Pretty good. How's everything with you?"

Laura began to tell Joe about her day. Although Joe was itching to talk to his father he tried to provide an "Uh-huh" or "Really?" at the appropriate moments. Laura suddenly stopped mid-sentence and began to laugh softly. "Hold on, I'll get your father," she said sensing her son's impatience.

Joe winced. "Sorry, Mom. Was I really that obvious?" he asked sheepishly.

"Only to those who know and love you. Hold on."

"Thanks, Mom."

He heard other voices in the background and then his father was on the line.

"Joe?"

"Hi, Dad. Did I hear Frank?"

"Yes, he's here."

"Good. Can you tell him to pick up on an extension? It'll save me a phone call."

He heard Fenton relay the message to Frank, who picked up a few seconds later.

"Hey, bro, what's up?"

"Vanessa had a little problem tonight." He proceeded to relate the evening's events to his father and brother adding a few choice words here and there.

The silence that followed made him uneasy. "Well," he said impatiently. "What do you think? Could it be the same guy?"

"Well, it's possible," Fenton replied. "Some of what he did fits the pattern. A woman, alone on a dark, deserted street is typical. But he's never spoken to any of the victims before. Either way, we can't just dismiss it."

"So if it was him and I had been just a few minutes later…" Joe's voice dropped. "Vanessa could have been his next victim." He did not need a reply to know his father and brother were thinking the same thing.

…

After speaking with Joe a few more minutes and making plans for the next morning, Frank and his father retreated to Fenton's office. Fenton closed the door behind him and took a seat on the leather couch next to Frank. Frank had gone to his parents for dinner as Callie was out with several friends from work that night. Earlier he had mentioned to his father that he wanted to talk to him about Joe.

"Ok, son, what is it you wanted to tell me."

Looking at his father, Frank wasn't exactly sure how to begin. All he had was a feeling and Joe's increasingly strange behavior over the past few days.

"I'm not exactly sure where to start, Dad."

"Let's see if I can help. You mentioned earlier that Joe had been acting strange recently; out of character. In what way?"

"Well, for one the way he's been harping on Mom, Callie and Vanessa about going out alone, being careful, checking in a million times a day so we know they're okay. I know he has this 'thing' where he feels like he has to protect them, but ever since we started working on this case he seems to have gone off the deep end. Vanessa loves him no matter what, so it's a little easier for her to put up with it, but Callie is ready to kill him and even Mom rolled her eyes at him last night!"

Fenton smiled and nodded remembering the incident Frank was referring to.

"Come on, Dad, he's her baby. Her patience is endless when it comes to Joe. For him to get that kind of reaction out of her, well, it's gotta be bad."

"I'll agree he has been more overprotective than usual lately. Is there anything else?"

"Well, today when we went to the first crime scene – the old hotel in Angel Beach – I don't know…he just had this weird reaction to the place."

"How so?" Fenton asked.

"I started to walk across the room and realized Joe wasn't following me. I turned around and he was leaning against the door staring at the corner of the room where the rape happened." Frank noticed the look on his fathers face starting to change. He had obviously struck a nerve.

"He had this look on his face like…I'm not sure what. It was like he was looking at something only he could see and whatever it was absolutely terrified him."

"Did he say anything?" Fenton asked, hoarsely.

"He said, _"God, she must have been terrified." _But it was the way he said it, Dad. And the look in his eyes; almost like he could actually see it happening. It worried me, you know? I mean nothing scares him anymore. But for just a few seconds there, he was petrified."

Fenton closed his eyes. Putting his head in his hands, he whispered, "Oh, God. He's starting to remember."


	8. Chapter 8

Many thanks to Cheryl, Pandora and washaza for the reviews! I think this chapter will answer some of your questions. :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 8**

Frank sat quietly, not sure what to do. _'Joe is starting to remember? Remember what?'_

Suddenly Fenton stood up and walked towards the door. Frank quickly got to his feet and began to follow only to be stopped by his father.

"No!" Fenton said, forcefully. "Wait here."

"But…"

"I said wait here." Seeing the confusion on Franks face, he put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be right back. I'm just going to get your mother. She needs to be here, too."

Frank watched his fathers retreating back, his mind spinning. Returning to the couch he anxiously awaited his parents return. He tried to relax but his mind refused to slow down, coming up with various reasons to explain first Joe's behavior, and now his fathers too. Had something happened to Joe that he didn't know about? But how could that be? They were rarely separated. The sound of the office door opening brought his attention back to the present.

He looked at his parents and noted with apprehension that they had both been crying. Whatever it was they had to say, it was not going to be good. His mother came and sat next to him on the couch. Suddenly she put her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

This served only to increase Frank's apprehension. His father sat on the other side of him, with a haunted look on his face. Frank pulled away from his mother, scared.

"What's going on? Dad said Joe was starting to remember. Remember what?"

His parents exchanged a silent glance, only heightening Frank's anxiety level.

"Tell me!" he yelled angrily. "He's my brother. If something is wrong, I have a right to know!"

"I can't," Fenton whispered, looking to his wife for support.

Straightening her shoulders, Laura took a deep breath. Taking Frank's hand in hers, she looked directly into his eyes.

"Do you remember when you were seven years old and you went away on a trip with Greg Lawson and his family?"

"Yes. It was the first time I was ever away from home all by myself. Whenever I went to Aunt Carol and Uncle Jeff's, it was always with Joe," Frank said, referring to Laura's sister and her husband. For some strange reason, it just now occurred to Frank that was around the time his aunt and uncle moved to Arizona. Laura seemed to have lost contact with her sister after that.

"Yes, that's right. Joe was heartbroken that he had not been invited, too. He idolized you, Frank. He wanted to do everything his big brother did," she smiled sadly.

"I remember. Greg was an only child and resented my including Joe in everything we did. He was jealous of Joe. That's why I decided not to remain friends with him." Frank frowned. "I always regretted going on that trip without Joe. Funny thing is, I had a lousy time. Kept wondering what Joe was doing the whole time." Frank saw his parents visibly stiffen and knew he had said something wrong. "Sorry, Mom. Please go on."

"Joe was so upset when you left I called Carol to see if Joe could spend the weekend with them. Even though they lived in Bayport, too, at least Joe would feel like he was doing the same thing his big brother was. And he would get to play with Kelly and Kevin," Laura said, referring to her niece and nephew.

"We dropped him off Friday morning. He called us that night to tell us how much fun he was having. He was so excited because they were going to spend Saturday at the park. Saturday afternoon we got a call from Jeff." Laura stopped and closed her eyes, obviously trying to compose herself. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. "Joe had disappeared."

"What?!" Frank exclaimed. "Disappeared? You mean he was kidnapped?"

Laura nodded.

"But…how?! Weren't Aunt Carol and Uncle Jeff watching him? How could he just vanish?"

"Joe, Kelly and Kevin had been playing with a group of children from the local orphanage who were there for a picnic. Kelly fell down and scraped her knee and her face. Kevin got scared when he saw a little bit of blood on her face and brought her to Carol and Jeff. For some reason, Joe didn't follow them but stayed with the other kids. Carol and Jeff only took their eyes off Joe for a minute..."

"That's all it takes," Fenton said bitterly.

Laura reached over and squeezed her husband's hand tightly. "We got him back, thanks to you. That's all that matters."

Frank recalled the day he came home from that trip. He had missed his little brother terribly and by the way Joe had clung to him for the next few weeks, he assumed the feeling was mutual. He had been so happy to be with his brother again, he had barely noticed his parents.

"But he was here when I got back," Frank said, confused.

"Sam and your father started searching for Joe immediately. They didn't sleep until they found him and brought him home. You got back the next day."

Frank was more confused than he had been before and full of unanswered questions. "Where was he? Who took him? How come you never told me any of this before? And how come Joe has never mentioned it?"

Having regained his composure, Fenton took up the story.

"There was a large child pornography ring operating out of New York City at the time. It was run by a man named Josh Tilghman. He was extremely intelligent; had a very high I.Q. He was a member of Mensa. He would take orders from pedophiles for specific types of children. Then he would send his operatives out to find a child matching the description and kidnap them."

Frank started to shake as the pieces of the story fell into place. He looked at his father, eyes wide with fear. "They got Joe?" he asked.

"The operatives had strict orders to grab only children who had been orphaned; no living relatives. His reason being there was very little chance of a prolonged search by concerned family members. Tilghman and his family lived in Bayport but the kidnappings were spread over several counties and neighboring states so as not to arouse the suspicions of the local authorities. He was so good it was impossible to see the pattern."

Frank's mind was moving at top speed. Knowing what his father's next words would be, he spoke them himself.

"The operatives assumed Joe was an orphan because he was playing with the kids from the orphanage," he said looking at his father, who nodded at his correct assumption.

"Someone had placed an order for a little boy, five to seven years old with blue eyes and blonde hair. When Kelly fell and started crying all the adults were momentarily distracted. They grabbed Joe and left. Since everyone was focused on Kelly, no one saw a thing," Fenton said.

"How long did they have him?"

"Three days," his father answered, obviously guilt-ridden that it had taken him so long to find his little boy.

"Oh, my God." Frank suddenly felt very ill. "They didn't…He wasn't…" His eyes started to well up with tears.

"No," his mother said quickly. "He wasn't abused. Thank God your father found him before they had a chance to turn him over to the man who 'bought' him," she said choking on the last few words. "But they forced him to watch other children being abused and assaulted," she continued, tears silently falling from her eyes. "They were teaching him what would be expected of him."

Frank felt ill once again at the thought of what his brother had been forced to witness. "How come Joe never told me any of this? He knows how much I love him. Nothing could ever change that." Frank felt slightly hurt at the thought that Joe didn't trust him enough to share any of this with him.

"It's not that he doesn't trust you, Frank. He doesn't remember any of it," his father replied.

Frank felt like he had the rug pulled out from under him, just when he had finally found his footing. "What do you mean he doesn't remember? Three days of having to watch…" he shook his head. "How could he not remember?" He turned to his mother as she spoke.

"After your father took him to the hospital to make sure he hadn't been abused, we went right to a child psychologist. She was the best in her field in New York City. She saw Joe several times a week for almost a month and he never, ever said a word about that weekend. In fact he loved going to see her; said she had the best toys ever." Laura smiled at the memory.

"One day she told us we didn't need to bring him back. Whatever he had seen was so traumatic for him, he completely repressed it; buried it in a manner of speaking. As far as he was concerned, it never happened. He had no memory of it."

"But that's not healthy, is it?"

"No, it's not. But Dr. Lange felt in his case it would do more damage to force him to remember. Other than how he clung to you for the next few weeks, he showed no ill effects at all."

"And I thought that was just because he missed me," Frank said sadly. "How could I not know something was wrong?" he berated himself.

"Frank, you were only seven years old. I know you take your role as older brother seriously, but you were just a little boy yourself. Besides, once he subconsciously chose to forget those three days, he went right back to being the happy little troublemaker he'd always been. And when you got home the next day he was so thrilled to have his big brother back, nothing else mattered."

Something still didn't make sense to Frank. "If he never remembered anything, how do you know so much about what happened while he was there?"

Laura got up and perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of her husband, taking both of his hands in hers and holding them tightly. They exchanged a look that spoke volumes, none of which Frank understood.

"Those people," she said with hatred, "videotaped everything they forced those poor children to do. They used the tapes to teach new children what they were expected to do and as a way of showing new 'clients' what their filthy money could buy." Frank had never seen his mother so enraged. "Even though the doctor said they never touched Joe, we had to be sure. Your father watched all the tapes made during the three days they had Joe."

Fenton recalled, as if it were yesterday, watching hours and hours of videos of children being raped, abused and assaulted, all the while praying to God his little boy wouldn't suddenly appear on the screen. It was the only time in his career a case had been so repulsive that it made him physically ill.

Frank looked at his father with new respect and admiration.

"When you and Callie have children, you'll understand," he answered Franks unspoken question. "You'll do anything for your children, no matter how painful it is for you."

"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this before?" Frank asked, without accusation.

"At the time it happened, you were too young to understand it all even if we had tried to explain it," his mother answered. "As time went on and Joe showed no signs of remembering at all, well, we just didn't see the point. Dr. Lange had said Joe had to remember it on his own. You and Joe are so close we were afraid if we told you, you would be so upset you wouldn't be able to hide it from him."

"You're right about that. I probably couldn't have."

"Which brings us to the present," Fenton said. "Frank, you cannot let Joe suspect for even a second that you are worried about him. Obviously, you have every reason to be, but he doesn't know that. Are you going to be able to do that?"

Frank took a deep breath and sighed loudly. Joe knew him better than anybody, even Callie. Trying to behave as if everything was fine when he was so concerned about his brother was going to require some serious self-control.

"I'll do my best, Dad."

"You have to do better than that. You know how he gets when he thinks something is being kept from him. I know this is going to be hard for you, son, but you have to act completely normal when you're with Joe."

"I'll do whatever it takes. But what happens now? I mean he's obviously starting to remember things, even if it's not on a conscious level yet." Frank shook his head. "Isn't there anything we can do to get him off this case?"

"I don't see how unless you're willing to give it up, too. The two of you are a team. Nothing would raise his suspicions faster than pulling him off and leaving you on. Besides, I need both of you on this one. Believe it or not, out of all the people working on this case, you and Joe are the only ones who have a perfect track record."

"Then we have to get this one solved fast. Maybe then he'll stop having those flashbacks and we won't have to worry about it. Maybe he can live without ever remembering that weekend."

Looking at his parents he knew they believed that even less than he did, but it was the only thing he had to hold on to. He did not want to think about what would happen if Joe were to remember the three days that caused him such terror.


	9. Chapter 9

Pandora: Thanks for hanging in there!

TraSan: Welcome back! Hope you had a great vacation!

Cheryl: Thanks, buddy! ;-)

Whashaza: Thanks for the review! :-)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 9**

_Joe peered out into the mist, squinting, as if that would help him see through the heavy fog that had rolled in. He wandered along the deserted street searching for…what? The night was eerily quiet and still. He hadn't seen another soul. Where was everyone?_

_Suddenly a piercing scream split the night air. Joe froze. Another scream, this one causing his blood to run cold._

_Vanessa! He knew it was her. He would recognize her scream anywhere._

_"Vanessa!" he yelled. A third scream, this one filled with fear and pain._

_"Vanessa, where are you?!" he yelled again, feeling the panic start to overtake him._

_Another scream, this one worse than all the others. He ran towards the sound faster than he ever thought possible. Rounding a corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide with horror at what he saw._

_"NO!!" he cried out in anguish._

Joe bolted upright in bed, his breathing coming loud and fast. His heart was racing and his hands were shaking badly.

'_The dream!'_ he thought, terrified.

He knew immediately it was the same dream that had left him paralyzed with fear just a few nights ago. But this time he remembered bits and pieces…

'_Deserted street. Walking alone. Lots of fog. Where was everyone? The screams!'_ he inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. _'Vanessa!'_ He quickly turned and looked down at his sleeping fiancée. The dream was so real he half expected her not to be there. He reached down and brushed a lock of hair off her face, letting his fingers linger there. _'There was more.' _He closed his eyes, concentrating._ 'Running towards the screams. Faster. Turned the corner and saw…'_ His eyes flew open.

The horror he had felt in the dream came rushing back. He could swear he felt his heart stop for just a second. What had he seen? He tried desperately to remember, but nothing more came back to him.

'_The subconscious protects you from things that it deems too traumatic to remember.'_ He heard his father's words from just a few nights ago.

Joe shook his head as if doing so would dislodge the haunting images in his mind. He slid back under the covers and pulled Vanessa close to him, holding her tightly.

"You, okay, babe?" she murmured, more asleep than awake.

"Yeah, fine," he whispered, stroking her hair.

'_He's lying. That dream again?' _she thought vaguely before sleep overtook her once again.

The insistent beeping of the alarm clock came much too early for Joe. After the terrifying nightmare that had awakened him in the night he had found it difficult to go back to sleep, fearing a return of the awful images as soon as he closed his eyes. It had been close to two hours before he fell asleep once again.

Rolling over, he pulled the covers up over his head in an effort to block out the annoying sound. Seconds later there was blissful silence. Joe told himself to get up as Frank was planning to pick him up earlier than usual, but succeeded only in talking himself back to sleep. He felt as if he had been asleep for only seconds when the smell of coffee began to bring him around. A hand gently pushed the hair off his face, which was followed by a kiss on the cheek.

"Joe. You need to get up, hon. Frank will be here soon." Rolling over he opened his eyes. Vanessa was seated on the edge of the bed, smiling down at him. "I brought you some coffee. I thought you might need it," she said with just a touch of concern.

Sitting up, he leaned back against the headboard. Taking the coffee, he took a few sips and rested his head back, closing his eyes.

"Was it the same dream?" Vanessa asked softly, brushing another lock of hair off his forehead.

"No," he lied, keeping his eyes closed. He knew if she could see his eyes, she would know he was lying. He did not want to tell her the dream he'd had was about her. He could still hear her screams echoing in his head.

Sensing he did not want to talk about it, she leaned forward and kissed him once again. "I have to get in to work early today. The new graphics program I was so excited about has been nothing but trouble. The tech support guys are meeting me first thing to see if we can figure out what's wrong with it. I'll see you tonight."

Eyes still closed, Joe reached out and pulled her into him, hugging her tightly.

"Have a good day." He kissed her. "And be careful, huh?" he added softly, thinking not only of the shocking nightmare but the stranger who had attempted to "help" Vanessa the night before. "I love you."

"I love you too, hon. And I'll be careful," she assured him, returning the warm embrace.

After she left, Joe finished his coffee, took a quick shower and was waiting in the lobby of the apartment building when Frank arrived less than thirty minutes later. Seeing his brother turn into the parking lot, he stepped out of the lobby and walked to the car just as Frank was getting out.

Frank stared at Joe as he approached the car.

"What?" Joe said, slightly annoyed. "Did I grow another head or something?"

"No. It's just…usually I have to lean on the buzzer for five minutes before you even acknowledge that I'm here," he said nervously. His father had been right. He hadn't been with Joe more than thirty seconds and Joe could already sense he was acting differently.

"Vanessa made sure I was up before she left for work, so you can thank her," Joe replied getting in the car. When Frank didn't immediately follow, he leaned over and knocked on the driver's side window. "Are you coming or am I going solo today?" he said, starting to get irritated. _'What's his problem? Man, this is gonna be a long day.'_

Frank opened the door and got in, staring straight ahead. "I just thought Vanessa might need a ride to work since her Jeep is in the shop."

"She took my car."

Now Frank turned and looked at his brother. "You let her drive your baby?" He leaned over and put the back of his hand on Joe's forehead. "Do you have a fever or something?" Six months earlier, Joe had purchased a brand new Mustang loaded with every available option. He hadn't let anyone else behind the wheel of his beloved car since the day he drove it off the lot.

"Ha, ha," he replied, shoving Franks hand aside. "She promised she'd be very careful and wouldn't let anything happen to it. I trust her."

"If you said that with a little more enthusiasm I might actually believe you." Chuckling, Frank envisioned his brother going over every inch of the car with a magnifying glass after Vanessa got home that night.

"Just drive," Joe said tiredly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Tired? That's what you get for keeping Vanessa up late on a weeknight," Frank teased.

"You're just full of it today, aren't you? For your information, I'm tired because I didn't sleep well last night. That's all."

"Why didn't you sleep well?" Frank asked immediately concerned.

Joe considered telling Frank about the dream he'd had the night before, then decided against it. For some unknown reason he was already acting weird this morning and Joe didn't want to give him anything else to start worrying about.

"I just didn't, that's all. Does there have to be a reason?"

"There usually is. Did you have a nightmare? Was something bothering you before you went to sleep? That guy that tried to help Vanessa maybe?" Frank tried to keep the increasing worry out of his voice.

'_Sounds like as good a reason as any,'_ Joe thought. "Yeah, that must be it. Can I take a nap now?"

"Sure, go ahead. I'll wake you up when we get there," Frank replied.

As Joe drifted off into a light sleep, he tried to convince himself Frank's reasoning was correct. However, his gut instinct told him it didn't even scratch the surface. He knew the nightmare he'd had came from something buried deep inside and he was deathly afraid that with time, whatever it was would come exploding back to the surface.

As Frank drove, he frequently glanced at his brother sleeping in the seat next to him. Truth be told, he had not slept well either, tossing and turning all night unable to stop thinking about everything his parents had revealed to him the night before. His parents had warned him not to say anything that might cause Joe to start asking questions, but he didn't know how he was going to keep his emotions under control so as not to arouse Joe's suspicions.

Incredibly, even though she had retired several years earlier, his father had been able to track down Dr. Lange late the previous evening. She had remembered Joe very well and advised him they should not say or do anything that would cause Joe to become wary of them. She said it was imperative that they all act normally around him. If he were going to remember the events of that weekend, he would have to do it on his own. If he didn't, it meant he was still not ready to accept what had happened. To force him to remember, or tell him outright what had occurred seventeen years ago, could have devastating consequences.

Frank drove slowly, taking almost an hour to arrive in Kirkland. He found he was grateful that Joe slept the entire trip as it gave him the time he needed to compose himself. Pulling up to the front of the old quarry, Frank got out of the car and opened the gate. The quarry had been closed down several years earlier and the lock that was supposed to keep people out had rusted long ago allowing anyone who gave a gentle push on the gate to have full access.

Returning to the car, he found Joe awake and looking out the window, surveying their surroundings.

As Frank drove past the gate Joe leaned forward, looking at the mountains of deteriorating gravel and sand. The quarry had closed abruptly and been left to the mercy of elements over the years, which had not been kind.

"Man, this place is desolate," Joe remarked.

"Can you check the police report and tell me exactly where to go?"

"Yeah, I can tell you where to go," Joe grinned wryly, examining the police report. Without looking up he said, "You set yourself up for it." mimicking his brothers words from the day before.

"We can't possibly be related," Frank muttered. "You must have been switched at birth with my real brother. That will be my next case; finding my real brother."

"Up here on the right," Joe said, becoming serious once again.

Frank pulled to a stop beside a mountain of gravel and Joe got out of the car. Yellow police tape fluttered in the breeze telling him they were in the right location. Yawning and stretching his six-foot frame, he glanced around at their surroundings.

"I don't know what they think we can find here now," he said as Frank joined him. "It's been what – over a week? Since then it has rained and snowed not to mention all the wind we had yesterday."

"I know. If there was anything here, it's long gone by now," he sighed.

After a quick but thorough search, Frank and Joe were back in the car on their way to the next crime scene. Ironically, the Kirkland Courthouse had recently moved into newer, more spacious quarters and the fifth rape had taken place at the site of the old courthouse.

After another frustrating search that yielded no new information, the brothers decided to stop for lunch before heading back to Bayport. Stopping at a small restaurant they had eaten at several times in the past, they ordered burgers, fries and sodas.

As they waited for their food to arrive, they noticed a young woman with a little boy in a booth on the other side of the small restaurant. The little boy was growing increasingly agitated when he didn't get everything he wanted. His outbursts grew progressively worse until the other diners were glaring at the woman and her crying son. Embarrassed, she paid the bill and got out of the booth, telling her son it was time to go home. This was not what the little boy wanted to hear and he immediately launched into a very loud temper tantrum. Taking his hand, his mother attempted to lead him out of the restaurant amidst stares from other patrons. When he sank to his knees, wailing at the top of his lungs, she dragged him several feet unaware he was being so uncooperative.

Watching the scene, Frank shook his head and laughed. "That makes me want to put off having kids for many, many years!" he joked. When he didn't get the expected sarcastic reply from Joe, he turned to look at his younger brother and gasped.

Joe was staring at the young mother and her child in sheer terror. "No," he whispered, his blue eyes wide with fear. "Let him go. Please don't hurt him anymore."

Realizing his brother was flashing back to that horrifying weekend, but unsure of what to do, Frank reached across the table and gently touched Joe's arm. Joe flinched, pulling away as if he'd been shot, and scooted back as far as he could into the corner of the booth.

"Joe?" Frank said, gently. "Are you okay?"

Joe stared at the woman and child a few seconds longer, then shook his head and blinked several times, finally focusing on Frank. "Did you say something?"

"No," Frank swallowed hard, realizing Joe had no idea what had just taken place.

"Where's our food? I'm starving," Joe asked looking around for their waitress.

A moment later she appeared with their orders, flirting with the brothers as she placed their food on the table. As Joe shamelessly flirted back, she cast a disapproving glance at Frank who hadn't spoken a word, then looked down noticing his wedding ring.

"Ah, the wedding ring," she said knowingly. "Happens every time. They get married and their flirting skills go right down the drain," she said to Joe conspiratorially. Glancing at his hands she continued, "I see you're not married."

"Engaged," Joe smiled. "Sorry."

"My loss," she replied. Leaning over she whispered. "If it doesn't work out, you know where I am." Straightening up, she cast another glance at Frank. "He really needs to lighten up," she muttered as she walked away.

For the first time Joe noticed the strange look on Franks face. Rolling his eyes, he said, "You're doing it again!"

"Huh? Doing what?" Frank asked, aware he had been paying no attention to what was going on around him. He'd been so concerned about what just happened with Joe, he hadn't heard one word of the exchange between the waitress and his brother.

"Staring at me again. What's with you today?"

"Nothing," he stammered. "Just zoned out for a minute I guess. This case just has me really confused. Let's talk about something else for a while. What are you and Vanessa doing this weekend?" he asked, hoping to steer his brother's attention away from his unusual behavior. To his relief, Joe enthusiastically told him what he and Vanessa had planned for the upcoming weekend.

Frank managed to cover his apprehension for the rest of the meal and the drive back to Bayport. After dropping Joe off at home, he went straight to his parent's house.

"Dad," he called out walking in the front door. "You home?"

"In here," his father answered from the kitchen.

Frank walked through the swinging door and found his father peering at the microwave oven. Looking at his son, Fenton shrugged his shoulders. "Your mother had a meeting tonight. I've been left to fend for myself."

"Uh, oh. That's not good," Frank smiled. He recalled the time his mother had gone away for a week and he and Joe had ended up eating fish sticks every night, as it was the only thing their father knew how to prepare.

"So how did it go today?" Fenton pushed a few buttons on the microwave and turned back to Frank. "Find anything new?"

"No, nothing."

"I hear a 'but' coming."

Frank pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table indicating his father should do the same.

"Joe had another…incident…today."

Fenton put his elbows on the table and rested his forehead against his clasped hands. Recalling how distraught his father had been the night before, Frank waited patiently until he composed himself.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"We stopped for lunch and there was a woman there with a little boy, her son I assume. The little boy apparently wasn't having a good day and kept crying and screaming every time he didn't get his own way. When they were leaving the restaurant he threw a major tantrum. She was holding his hand but wasn't really watching him. He kind of let his legs go out from under him and she ended up dragging him a few feet before she realized what was going on."

"And Joe saw a small child being dragged away, screaming."

"Exactly."

"How did he react?"

"He got the same look in his eyes again. And he said _"No. Let him go. Please don't hurt him anymore."_ Dad, he was terrified."

"Then what happened?"

"I wasn't sure what to do. I reached out and touched his arm. He pulled away from me and scrambled as far back into the booth as he could. He looked at me with such…fear. I mean he was looking at me, but he was obviously seeing someone else."

Fenton closed his eyes and was assaulted with memories of the day he had finally found Joe. When the police had raided the house where the child pornography ring was headquartered, Fenton frantically looked through several rooms before he finally found his little boy huddled on the floor in the corner of a bedroom. When Joe saw his father, he had literally leapt into his arms. Fenton could still feel Joe's tiny hands clutching him and holding on for dear life. Once Joe was safely in his father's arms, he refused to let go. When Fenton had to surrender his son to the emergency room doctors, Joe's heartbreaking cries for his Daddy could be heard all the way into the waiting room.

"Dad?" Frank said softly, putting a comforting hand on his fathers shoulder.

Opening his eyes, Fenton gave him a weak smile. "Go on. What else happened?"

"That's pretty much it. A few seconds after that he blinked a few times and asked me if I had said anything. He had absolutely no idea what he had just done."

"I'm not sure if that's good or bad. He's remembering when something specific triggers it, but on a conscious level he's still blocking it out," he shook his head wearily. "He shouldn't be working on this case, but we can't give him any logical reason for pulling him off it."

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll keep an eye on him," Frank said, sensing his father needed him to be the strong one.

"I know you will, Frank," he smiled gratefully. "I just hope if and when he does remember we're there. If he's with Vanessa or, God forbid, alone…" He exchanged a look with Frank. Neither of them wanted to think about what would happen should Joe remember those three days when he was all alone.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: My apologies! I intended to post this chapter last night but I got caught up in doing some research on the Internet for another story and totally forgot about it.

While it is not graphic in description, the final scene in this chapter is the reason for the 'M' rating.

Many, many thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! :-)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 10**

_  
Joe and Vanessa were on their honeymoon on a secluded beach with not another soul around for miles. Cloudless blue skies and water so clear they could see the fish swimming around in search of food. He was lying on the beach, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He felt soft lips brush his cheek in a kiss, bringing a slight smile to his lips. A few seconds later another kiss, this one a little harder._

"Mmmm…" he smiled.

A soft, familiar giggle caused him to open one eye just a crack. "Come on, Sleepyhead. Time to get up."

He opened the other eye and saw Vanessa standing over him. Looking past her, he saw the familiar stucco of their bedroom ceiling. _'Just a dream. At least this was a nice one.'_

"Mornin' Babe," he said sleepily. Reaching up he grabbed Vanessa around the waist and pulled her onto the bed next to him.

Laughing again she wagged a finger at him. "Sorry, Romeo, not today. You have to get an early start, remember? You asked me to make sure you were up before I left for work."

Joe groaned as he remembered. After speaking with Frank and his father on the phone the night before, it was decided he would go to the newspaper morgue in both Southport and Kirkland to see if there had been any similar cases in the past. Grasping at straws, they were hoping this might be a copycat case. If so, they might be able to find the break they needed through accounts of the original assaults. Frank and Fenton were going to interview all of the victims to see if they could pick up anything that might have been missed when they gave their statements to the police.

It was going to be a long, tedious day and he had figured the sooner he got started the sooner he'd finish. But now he was trying to figure out a way to put off the inevitable just a little bit longer.

As Vanessa struggled to escape his grasp, he held her tighter, kissing her neck. "Why don't we call in sick today?" he suggested.

"Believe me, I'd like nothing better," she finally stopped trying to wriggle free. "But I have a tight deadline for this project. I can't miss it and we're still having problems with the new graphics program."

Switching tactics, he tried again. "Okay, then why not just be a little late today?" Joe flashed her his best smile, the one he knew melted her heart and would always result in his getting exactly what he wanted.

Vanessa quickly held up two fingers, making the sign of the cross and holding it up to Joe. "Back! Back!" she said in mock seriousness. "Don't be using that smile on me! Not today!"

"Aw, come on Baby…"

"And no _'Aw come on Baby'_ either!"

The sudden sound of the intercom buzzer, announcing that someone was at the front door of the apartment building startled them.

As Vanessa jumped up, Joe threw up his hands in mock disgust, crossed his arms over his chest and started to pout. Vanessa couldn't help but laugh out loud at the look on his face as she ran out to the living room. God, he loved her laugh! She never held back when something made her laugh. It was contagious and caused everyone around her to join in.

Joe climbed out of bed and a few minutes later appeared in the living room, carrying the cup of coffee Vanessa had made for him.

"It was Callie," Vanessa told him, referring to the buzzer. "She's dropping me off at work," she sighed and continued. "I'll be so glad when the parts for my car come in and I won't have to depend on everyone else for a ride."

"I can pick you up tonight. I should be done by then." Joe put down his coffee and helped Vanessa on with her coat.

"We can figure it out later. I don't want you to rush and miss something important because of me." She gave him a serious look. "You have to catch this guy, Joe. There's no telling where he'll turn up next."

Actually, Fenton Hardy had a very good idea where the rapist would strike next, but Joe didn't want to worry her anymore than she already was. He pulled her into a hug and held her tightly for a moment. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. He didn't know what it was, but he loved the smell of her hair.

"Don't worry. We'll catch him," Joe said confidently.

"Call me when you get a chance," she said, pulling back from him. "If you're not going to be back here by five I can take the bus home."

"Yeah, I know. I just feel better when I can pick you up myself."

She smiled and gave him a kiss goodbye. "Bye, hon. See you tonight. Love you."

"Love you too, Babe. Have a good day." He reluctantly let her go and watched her walk out the door.

oooOOOooo

Joe sat back in the chair and rubbed his eyes. He'd spent all morning at the newspaper morgue in Southport and now he was here in Kirkland doing the same thing. Normally he hated this part of investigative work even though he realized how important it was. This time, however, he had requested the assignment. He could have gone with his father and Frank to interview the victims again. He often got his best "instincts" when talking to victims of the crimes they investigated, but in this particular case he just couldn't stomach it. Rape. It made his blood boil just thinking of it. The sheer terror the victims had to endure during the attack was bad enough. To have to live through it over and over again when police and investigators wanted to question them '_just one more time, in case we missed something_' was more than he could take.

He glanced down at his notes and with a growing dread realized his father had been correct. Fenton Hardy had picked up on the pattern of the serial rapist almost immediately. The first rape had occurred in Angel Beach. The next two had taken place 25 miles north of Angel Beach in Southport. Three more followed in Kirkland, located 25 miles north of Southport. According to the pattern, the next rape would occur in the town located 25 miles north of Kirkland…the town of Bayport. If the Hardys and the police were not able to catch the rapist, three more rapes in Bayport would follow that one. This animal was methodically working his way up the coast. Each town was exactly 25 miles north of the previous one. And in each town, he committed one more rape than he had in the town before.

'_Not in my hometown!' _Joe thought angrily. '_Your time is up, Scumbag_._'_

Joe glanced at his watch – 4:35pm. If he left now he'd be back in Bayport shortly after five. Gathering up his notes, he left the library. Walking through the parking lot, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Vanessa's work number. Getting her voice mail, he left a message letting her know he'd be there a little after five to pick her up.

…

At the same moment, Vanessa was dialing Joe's cell phone and getting his voice mail.

"Hi, hon. I was just checking in to see how the research was going. I've had a horrible day; that new program still won't work right. I'm about ready to fix it with a sledgehammer! I think I'm going to be able to sneak out early so I'll take the bus home. See you there. Love you. Bye."

After shutting down her computer, Vanessa grabbed her things and headed for the door. She didn't want anyone to stop her on the way out with _'just a quick question'_ and hurried to the elevator. Stepping out into the lobby, she waved at the security guard.

"Night, Greg!"

"Bye, Vanessa. Have a good weekend." He replied as he watched her exit the building and turn in the direction of the bus stop.

oooOOOooo

Joe was on the Interstate, halfway to Bayport, when a piece of debris flew off the run down pick up truck in front of him. He swerved to miss it but he wasn't fast enough. The rogue piece of metal embedded itself in one of his tires. He sighed as the tell tale "thump, thump, thump" of a flat tire forced him to pull to the shoulder. Once again, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Vanessa. Once again, he got her voice mail.

"Hi, Babe. I got a flat tire but it won't take me long to put on the spare. I'll be on my way again in five minutes so wait for me, okay? Love you. Bye."

…

Vanessa had been walking for almost twenty minutes when she saw the curve in the road. She quickened her pace, knowing the bus stop was just around the bend. As she emerged on the far side of the curve, she could just make out the receding taillights of the bus, fading into the distance. '_This day just can't get any worse'_, she thought.

She trudged to the bench under the streetlight and sat down to wait for the next bus. As she settled herself on the hard, wooden bench she heard a buzzing sound, then a pop above her head as the streetlight blew out. It was the last straw. Now sitting in darkness, she felt her eyes start to tear up. She'd had a miserable day at work and now she was sitting in the dark; she was tired, cold and hungry and had a splitting headache. She got up and began pacing in front of the bench to keep warm. When her day began, she hadn't anticipated the temperature dropping so quickly and wasn't dressed for it.

She was concentrating on what she would need to do to get the uncooperative computer software running when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and roughly spun around. She felt a hard punch to her stomach causing her to double over, gasping for air. Before she could process what had just happened she felt something hard hit her in the back of the head and she fell to her knees. She vaguely thought, '_Now I know what it feels like to see stars_.'

Still reeling, Vanessa was picked up by a pair of strong arms and carried towards what appeared to be a car. She could barely keep her eyes open and when she did, she was seeing blurred, double images. She heard what she assumed was a car door opening and felt herself being roughly thrown inside. The door slammed shut, causing her to wince.

'_Get up!_' she screamed silently to herself. '_Get out and run!'_

Even in her semi-conscious state, she remembered Joe once telling her that when a victim is removed from the original scene of the crime, escape is almost impossible. The door near her head opened. She tried to lift her head to see who had attacked her but even that slight movement made her nauseous.

Her left arm was grabbed and roughly pulled over her head. She felt cold, hard steel being put around her wrist. A few seconds later her right arm was also pulled over her head and she felt the same cold object then heard a click.

'_Handcuffs!'_

Her wrists had been handcuffed to the door handle, effectively preventing any chance of escape. The car door slammed shut causing her to cry out in pain. Another door opened and she could tell someone had gotten into the car. The engine started and the car smoothly pulled away from the curb. Silently, Vanessa began to pray.

'_Please, God, don't let me die. I don't want to die. I'm sorry I brushed Joe off this morning. Please let me see him one more time. We have our whole lives ahead of us. We want to get married; have children; grandchildren. Grow old together. Please, God, don't let me die. Not now. Not like this_.' Before slipping into unconsciousness, her last thought was of Joe. '_I love you, Joe. I love you.'_

Vanessa was roughly brought back to reality when the same strong arms dragged her from the car and started pulling her away from it. She had no idea how far or how long they'd traveled. She opened her eyes and still found herself seeing blurry doubles of everything.

'_Fight, Vanessa, fight!'_ she told herself. The handcuffs still dangled from her left wrist but her arms were now free. Whoever had attacked her was dragging her backwards, to where she didn't know. She had to get away. With all the strength she could summon, she drew her arm forward and let go with an elbow to the head that would have made her kickboxing instructor proud. A jolt through her arm told her she had connected with her target.

The arms that were holding her suddenly let go and she stumbled forward, catching herself before she fell to the ground. She heard a grunt of pain followed by swearing. She immediately tried to run, knowing she needed to get away. Far away. Her legs felt heavy, as if she were running through quicksand. She heard footsteps and tried to quicken her pace. '_Faster! Run faster!'_ she commanded herself, but her body could not respond. She was grabbed around the waist and forcefully thrown to the ground

Vanessa felt her head strike the hard concrete and groaned in pain, her world becoming hazy once again. She heard and felt her clothes being torn; felt rough, unfamiliar hands on her body. '_Please, God, no. Make it stop._ _I don't deserve this!'_ Her jeans were viciously pulled off. She found herself wishing, hoping, she'd slip into unconsciousness again. Instead, she hovered on the edge, fully aware of what was happening to her but powerless to do anything to stop it. She desperately wanted to fight back but her body was unwilling to cooperate.

She felt the weight of a body on top of hers, and then the rhythmic, searing pain began. As the tears started to fall she thought, '_Oh, God, Joe. Why didn't I just wait for you to call?'_ Vanessa cried silently, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain.

After what seemed an eternity, when Vanessa felt she couldn't take anymore, the attack finally ended. Without a word the man who had so brutally assaulted her untangled himself from Vanessa and stood up. She heard the sound of a zipper, receding footsteps, a car door open and slam shut. The engine started and she heard the car drive away.

Vanessa rolled onto her side and curled up in the fetal position. Her body was in agony, her head was pounding and she started to shiver from the cold and shock. She opened her eyes, saw the blurred image of a dumpster and began to sob. Her cell phone was in her purse back at the bus stop and Joe had absolutely no idea where she was. Was she going to die here? Or worse yet, in her mind, what if her attacker came back? The thought chilled her to the bone.

Vanessa tried to sit up but the pain of the assault made that impossible. Maybe she could crawl out into the open where someone might see her and stop to help. She groped around for her jeans but even that small movement made her nauseous once again.

Suddenly she heard footsteps and felt a hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch.

"No," she whimpered. "Please, not again."

She felt something cover her body – a coat? A soft, unfamiliar voice spoke to her in a soothing tone.

"Ssssh. It's okay. You're safe now. Help is on the way."

Vanessa huddled, shivering under the coat and began to sob openly. Hearing the voice talking, asking for the police and an ambulance, she gratefully slipped into unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thanks to everyone for continuing to read. :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 11**

Joe glanced at the clock on the dashboard as he approached the building where Vanessa worked. Between the flat tire and rush hour traffic, he was well over an hour late! He pulled up in front of the building and got out of the car. Walking up the steps he glanced around for Vanessa. Entering the lobby, he slowly walked around the perimeter looking for any sign of her. He approached the security desk by the front doors and was glad to see a guard he had talked sports with on previous trips to pick up Vanessa.

"Hi, Greg," Joe greeted the guard.

"Hey, Joe! How's it going?" Greg replied with a smile and an outstretched hand.

"Fine, thanks," Joe replied shaking his hand. "Hey, have you seen Vanessa tonight? I was supposed to pick her up at five but I got a flat so I'm a little late. I don't see her anywhere."

"Oh, yeah. She left a while ago. Last I saw her it looked like she was headed towards the bus stop."

"Great! Thanks, Greg. Bye."

"See you around, Joe."

Joe got back in his car and drove towards the bus stop, his blue eyes constantly scanning the sides of the road for any sign of his fiancée. He reached the bus stop and saw a few people standing there, but none of them was Vanessa. Since she wasn't at the bus stop and he hadn't seen her on the way, he assumed she caught the previous bus, which meant she would be home by now. He grabbed his cell phone and it was then that he noticed he had a message. Checking his voice mail, he listened to Vanessa telling him about her day and that she was taking the bus home. He dialed their number and got the answering machine.

"Hey, Babe, it's me. Are you there? If you are, can you pick up?" He waited a few seconds, and then continued. "Come on, Van. I'm starting to get worried. I just want to know you got home safely. Please, honey, pick up the phone." He waited a few more seconds and hung up. Vanessa would never let Joe worry needlessly about her safety. She must not be home yet. Despite her message, she obviously hadn't taken the bus.

While continuing to search the city streets, he systematically called Frank and Callie and all their friends, hoping desperately that Vanessa had called one of them for a ride. After each call, he re-checked his voice mail praying he'd find a message from Vanessa, letting him know she was at home, safe and sound.

Two hours later, having satisfied himself that Vanessa was nowhere in the vicinity and with a cell phone in need of recharging, he headed back to their apartment. During the short drive home, he repeatedly told himself that Vanessa had found another way home, ignoring the growing feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

As he pulled into the parking space directly below their apartment, he looked up and let out a huge sigh of relief. He could see the lights blazing through the sliding glass doors of the balcony and silently thanked God she had made it home safely. Eager to hold her in his arms, he bounded up the stairs and threw open the door.

"Hey, Babe, I'm sorry we got our signals crossed…"

Joe stopped dead in his tracks. Waiting for him were Frank and Fenton but no sign of Vanessa. Looking at his father and brother, the feeling of dread came back full force. He looked into his brother's eyes and saw pain, anguish and something he couldn't quite place. Pity? Sympathy?

"Where's Vanessa?" he asked quickly looking away.

Frank gently laid a hand on his arm. "Joe, something's happened…"

Joe shook off his hand and roughly brushed past him.

"Van? I'm home, hon."

He continued down the hall towards their bedroom. He knew something had happened. Something bad. He saw it in Frank's eyes and when he had briefly glanced at his father. In his growing panic he told himself Vanessa was here. She was home. She was safe. As long as he avoided returning to the living room to face them, he could continue to believe that.

He looked in their bedroom and bathroom. He even checked the walk-in closet Vanessa had fallen in love with when they first came to look at the apartment. Other than Joe's old Bayport High t-shirt that Vanessa had worn to bed the night before, there was no sign of her.

He slowly walked back into the hall, checking the guest bedroom and the second bathroom. He even opened the door to the linen closet – anything to avoid returning to the living room and learning the truth. He felt whatever had happened was his fault. If he'd been watching the road a little more closely, maybe he wouldn't have hit that piece of debris. He shut the door of the linen closet and leaned his forehead against it. He felt his eyes begin to well up with tears as he prayed '_Please, God, don't let her suffer because I wasn't paying attention.'_

"Son…" He heard his father's soft voice next to him. Fenton gently put his arm around Joe's shoulders and led him back to the living room. He guided Joe to the couch and sat down next to him. Frank sat on the other side and put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

Joe looked first at his father, then at Frank. They both had that same look in their eyes; the one he couldn't quite place. Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He had grown used to seeing that look reflected in his own eyes when he looked in the mirror, but never on his father or brother. It was guilt. Their eyes were filled with guilt. And that's when he realized what had happened to his beloved fiancée. The famous Hardys hadn't been able to solve this case quickly enough and as a result, someone they loved had become a victim.

Fenton broke the news as gently as he could. "I'm sorry, son. Chief Collig called me personally. A passerby heard crying from behind the old abandoned shopping center and went to check it out. They found Vanessa."

"No," Joe said softly. "No."

"I'm so sorry, Joe. She was raped."

Joe slid off the couch to his knees. He buried his face in his hands, sobbing. Frank and Fenton exchanged looks. They had to get Joe calmed down and get him to the hospital. Vanessa needed him now more than ever.

Without warning, Joe swept his arm across the coffee table in front of him. Magazines and papers flew everywhere.

"NO!!" He screamed and lashed out again at the few things remaining on the table. The half empty coffee cup he had left there early that morning flew across the room, smashing into pieces when it hit the wall.

"NO! NO!! Not Vanessa!" Joe yelled.

Frank looked at Fenton in a panic. Joe was obviously losing control, and fast!

Sobbing and crying out in anguish, Joe raised his right arm and brought it crashing down, shattering the glass top on the coffee table. Frank and Fenton threw their arms up to protect themselves from the flying glass. As the glass fragments settled, Frank looked up and saw his brother lunge for a lamp on the end table, blood starting to drip from Joe's right hand.

Frank threw himself at his younger brother. Grabbing him from behind in a tight bear hug, he pinned Joe's arms to his sides, dragging him backwards away from the shattered glass.

"No!" Joe continued to yell. "No! No! No!"

Fenton grabbed his younger son by the shoulders and yelled at him. "Joe! Stop it!"

Joe continued thrashing, trying to break away from the grip of his brother. He needed to break something else, hit someone, but Frank's hold was too strong. Joe was going over the edge and Frank knew if he somehow broke free, there would be no stopping him. Frank briefly flashed back to the day their car exploded in the mall parking lot, taking Iola Morton with it. Silently apologizing to Joe, he tightened his grip and pleadingly looked at his father.

"Dad, do something! I can't hold onto him much longer!"

This time Fenton roughly took his sons face in his hands, forcing Joe to look at him. Fenton was stunned, and terrified, by the seething hatred and blind rage he saw in his youngest son's eyes. He quickly regained his composure. They could deal with that later.

"Enough, Joseph!! Enough! Vanessa is hurt. She needs you. You need to calm down and get to the hospital _now_. You cannot let her see you like this. YOU have to be the strong one!"

Joe continued to struggle against Frank's grip and for a moment, Fenton feared he had not been able to get through to his youngest son. Suddenly Frank felt Joe relax. He loosened his hold on his brother but did not let go. Joe continued to cry quietly, but no longer lashed out at anything around him.

"Why, Dad? Why Vanessa?"

Frank's heart was breaking for his younger brother and for Vanessa. He remembered how Joe had changed after Iola had died. He'd always been a little wild but after the explosion his friends and family began to fear for his safety. It almost seemed as though he had no regard for his own life. When he met Vanessa everything changed. Joe had fallen madly in love with Vanessa and his whole world changed. Frank felt Vanessa had given him the greatest gift in the world – his wise cracking, care free, happy go lucky little brother was back.

Joe had once confided to Frank that he'd made a vow to himself to protect Vanessa no matter what. He would never let anyone hurt her, and if someone did, Joe had said he would kill them. Up until tonight, Frank always assumed Joe was "trash talking". The Hardys caught the criminals; it was up to the legal system to mete out the punishment. Tonight, however, after witnessing his brothers uncontrollable rage, Frank had a sense of foreboding that Joe had meant exactly what he said. Frank was terrified that this time, Joe would take justice into his own hands. His fathers voice brought Frank back to reality.

"I don't know son. I'm afraid she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Right now, we need to get your hand bandaged and get you to the hospital."

Joe looked down at the blood now dripping steadily from his right hand. He hadn't even realized it had been cut. He allowed his father to lead him back to the bathroom.

Frank began picking up the objects that had been flung around the room during Joe's outburst of rage. Realizing it would take more than a few minutes to clean up and not wanting his brother to be confronted with the sight when he eventually returned home, he picked up the phone and called Biff.

He quickly brought Biff up to date on what had happened. He asked Joe's best friend to come over and clean up the remaining mess before Joe got back. Biff readily agreed. A moment later Fenton reappeared with a still distraught but much more subdued Joe. His right hand now bandaged, Joe allowed his father and brother to lead him out the door.


	12. Chapter 12

Cheryl, TraSan, Pandora and whashaza: Yup, Joe and Vanessa have a very long road ahead. As do all the Hardys since this kind of violence affects not just the victim but those who love them, too. Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)

I did do quite a bit of research into the subject matter for this story so while this chapter isn't graphic, it's pretty accurate in what the aftermath would be as far as treatment goes.

**Guilty**

**Chapter 12**

The drive to the hospital was made in silence. Using the rear view mirror, Fenton Hardy frequently glanced at his son in the backseat. Joe's face was a mask of stone; it was the look in his eyes that concerned Fenton. Alternating between unbearable pain, seething anger, pure hatred and blind rage, he began to worry whether Joe would try to extract his own personal revenge once the rapist was caught.

As they neared the entrance to the hospital, Frank leaned over towards his father.

"Pull up to the ER and go in with Joe. I'll park the car."

"Are you sure?" Fenton asked, bewildered. Frank had always been fiercely over protective of Joe. At times he found himself having to remind Frank that he, in fact, was Joe's father.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay." He didn't understand Frank's behavior, but knew now was not the time to question it.

As he pulled up to the Emergency Room, Joe practically flew out of the car before it had even come to a stop. Fenton quickly stopped the car, unbuckled his seat belt and followed the path Joe had just taken. Entering the emergency room he could hear Joe's angry voice reverberating down the hall.

"I want to see her NOW!!"

"Sir, she is still being examined and treated by the doctor. Please go to the waiting area and the doctor will be out to speak with you as soon as he's finished," replied the receptionist Joe was hovering over.

By this time Laura and Callie, having heard Joe's angry outburst, had emerged from the waiting area down the hall.

"Honey, there's no news yet. Come and sit with us," Laura said gently, putting a comforting hand on his arm. She was momentarily shocked at how hard and tense the muscles in his arm were – as if he were on the verge of hitting something. "Come on, sweetie. Come with me."

As she turned to steer Joe down the hall towards the waiting area, she exchanged a worried glance with her husband who had just arrived. She knew Joe would be devastated when he learned what had happened to Vanessa, but one look at her husband told her his reaction to the news had been much, much worse than she had feared.

Suddenly a young man, holding a crying little boy, came rushing through the Emergency Room doors, cutting them off.

"Please!" he said frantically to the receptionist. "My son needs a doctor! He pulled a pot of boiling water off the stove! His arm is badly burned!"

Seeing how serious the burns were, a nurse who had been chatting with the receptionist when Joe came in took the little boy from his father.

"No! No!" the little boy screamed. "I want my Daddy!" He struggled, trying to escape the grasp of the nurse as she walked quickly towards an examination room.

_"Daddy!"_ The little boys cries echoed out into the hall. "Where's my Daddy?"

Joe stared down the hall after the nurse, seeing something apparent only to him.

"Daddy," he whispered.

Fenton's eyes widened in shock as he realized what Joe was seeing. _'Please, God, not now!'_ he thought. The look on Joe's face brought back a torrent of painful memories for him. It was the same look of horror and confusion Joe had seventeen years ago when the emergency room doctors practically had to pry him away from Fenton. He remembered how hard Joe had fought not to be taken from him and how it broke his heart to let him go. It was obvious that Joe, on some level, was remembering the same thing.

Laura, also realizing what was happening, looked at her husband.

"He can't be remembering!" she said, panic creeping into her voice. "This can't be happening now!" There was no way Joe could handle remembering that weekend right now; not after just finding out about Vanessa.

Fenton grabbed Joe's arm and shook it hard, hoping he was doing the right thing.

"Joe!" he said, harshly.

Joe continued staring down the hall, haunted by images only he could see.

"Joe!" Fenton said again, shaking him a little harder. "Look at me!"

Joe blinked a few times and shook his head. The look in his eyes quickly went from horror to confusion to grief as he remembered where he was and why.

"Where's the waiting room?" he asked, tiredly.

Worry quickly turned to relief for Laura and Fenton, at least temporarily. Silently they walked with Joe down the hall to the waiting area. Seated there with Callie were Ezra Collig and Con Riley. Joe sat in a chair next to his mother, not acknowledging either of them. Con motioned Fenton to the far corner of the room.

"How's he taking it?" Con asked, looking over at Joe.

"A lot worse than I thought," Fenton replied, running a hand through his hair in the exact same manner Frank used when he was upset. "Anything new?"

"Nothing. Vanessa hasn't regained consciousness, so we haven't been able to question her yet, but it's the same M.O. It's gotta be our guy."

"The question is," Ezra Collig interjected, "if it is the guy we're after, did he attack Vanessa because she's engaged to Joe? As a warning to drop the case? Or is it just a horrible coincidence that his latest victim just happened to be Joe's fiancée?"

The three men glanced at Joe once again. He was now sitting in the chair, staring into space, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again. Laura was speaking to him in a low voice but whatever she was saying was obviously not getting through to her youngest son.

Frank finally appeared at the entrance to the waiting area but stopped short of coming in. Callie jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Frank pulled her close to him and held her tightly, not wanting to let go. Callie tried to pull back slightly, to look him in the eye, but that only caused Frank to hold her even tighter. He started to tremble. She felt dampness on her shoulder and realized he had begun to cry. She let him hold her in the tight embrace, gently stroking his hair, until she felt his arms loosen. She could now lean back and look him in the eyes. The confusion and guilt she saw there broke her heart.

"Frank, what's wrong? Don't you want to be with Joe?"

"Yes," he replied, which was quickly followed by "No."

Callie was confused. Many times over the years, she and Frank had argued about his unwavering devotion to his younger brother. Now, when she completely understood the amount of support Joe was going to need from him, Frank seemed to be turning away.

"I'm sorry, Frank. I don't understand."

Frank opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He dropped his head, looking at the floor as if searching for an answer in the tiles.

"Frank, please tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

"I…I don't think I can face him," Frank responded.

"Why not?"

"I'm too… too ashamed."

Now Callie was completely confused. What could Frank possibly have to be ashamed of? If ever there were an award for the Perfect Older Brother, Frank Hardy would win, hands down.

"When Dad called to tell us about Vanessa," he continued, "I immediately thought…" He stopped, choking back tears.

"It's okay, honey," Callie said, soothingly. "Go on. You thought what?"

He took a deep breath and blurted out, "I thought _'Thank God it wasn't Callie!'_" Callie reached up and wiped a tear from his face, wishing she could also wipe away the guilt that was eating at him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for thinking that."

Callie put her arms around him and stroked his hair again, as a mother would when comforting a small child. Frank clung to her for emotional support. "I don't know what to say to him. I don't know how to help him. I can't let him see how relieved I am that it wasn't you."

Fenton Hardy, who had emerged from the waiting area a moment earlier, cleared his throat.

Frank looked up, startled.

"Joe isn't with you, is he?" he asked, panicking. He frantically looked past his father. If Joe had heard what he'd just admitted he feared their relationship would be destroyed forever.

"No," Fenton replied. "But the doctor will be out in a minute. They've finished treating Vanessa and are transferring her to a room." He hesitated a moment before asking, "Do you want to come back to the waiting area?"

'_No!'_ Frank wanted to scream. _'No, I don't want to go back. I don't want to see my brother in agony. I don't want to feel guilty because I'm relieved that my wife wasn't raped. I want to go home and lock the doors and hold Callie in my arms and never let her go. I want to pretend this night never happened!'_

"Sure, Dad," he replied. Taking Callie's hand he followed his father back to the waiting area.

As they made their way back towards the waiting area, a familiar figure approached from the opposite direction.

"Hello, Fenton," the man said, shaking Fenton's hand and clasping his shoulder. It was Dr. Gary Jackson, who as head of the E.R. had become familiar with the Hardys on their various trips to the emergency room. "I wish I could say it's good to see you again…" his voice trailed off. Fenton nodded in sad agreement and followed Dr. Jackson into the waiting area, Frank and Callie trailing behind.

Upon seeing Dr. Jackson, Joe jumped up. "How is she? Can I see her now?" he asked anxiously.

Dr. Jackson pulled up a chair opposite Joe and motioned for him to sit down again. "They're getting her settled in a room so it'll be a few minutes. Let's talk first, ok?"

Reluctantly, Joe agreed. He knew he had to find out how badly Vanessa had been hurt, but he dreaded having to hear the details of what that animal had done to her.

"First, she's suffered a Grade 3 concussion. More than just a bump on the head, but not life threatening. She'll probably regain consciousness within the next several hours, but will only be awake for a short while before falling asleep again. This pattern will continue for the next twenty-four hours or so. Forcing sleep is the brain's way of trying to heal. She may also feel a little disoriented for the next week or so, get headaches off and on and want to sleep more than usual. These are all normal side effects of a concussion. I expect her to make a full recovery from that."

'_Okay, a concussion_,' Joe thought. '_I can deal with that_.'

"She has some bruising on her wrists from the handcuffs," the doctor continued.

"HANDCUFFS?!" Joe exploded.

Dr. Jackson quickly looked from Fenton to Con to Ezra. "I thought he knew," he said bewildered.

"He apparently used handcuffs to restrain her at some point," Con explained to Joe, hoping that wouldn't prompt another outburst from him.

"We took x-rays as a precaution," Dr. Jackson continued quickly. "They came back negative."

Joe nodded silently, once again starting to clench and unclench his fists.

Dr. Jackson paused, seeming to be searching for the right words before continuing.

"We're running tests for all sexually transmitted diseases. Obviously we don't have the results back yet, but we've started her on antibiotic therapy to lessen the likelihood of any diseases." He hesitated just a moment. "The HIV test needs to be run again in three weeks. Fifty percent of people who are infected with HIV will test positive within twenty-one days of exposure. Presuming that test is negative, she will need to be tested again in three months. Almost everyone who has been infected with HIV will test positive by three months after exposure."

Joe couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was now gripping the armrests of the chair so hard his hands were white. Fenton, who was seated beside Joe, looked over his head trying to catch Frank's eye. Frank and Callie were holding onto each other, both of their faces showing the same look of horror and disbelief. Judging by that look Fenton was afraid if Joe's anger reached the breaking point, Frank would be no help in trying to restrain him. He was relieved that Con and Ezra had not yet left the hospital. Dr. Jackson's voice brought him back to reality.

"Even if that test is negative, she should be tested at six months after exposure. An extremely small number of people take six months to test positive. A final test should be done one year from now, to be absolutely certain she wasn't infected."

'_A year?!'_ Joe thought, horrified. '_She has to keep reliving this horror every three months for a year? How the hell can she even start to recover?'_

The doctor continued, "Of course using condoms will be mandatory until that happens."

'_This has gone beyond weird! I'm being lectured on methods of birth control in front of my parents.'_ Joe heard his mother trying her best not to cry. He realized she was reacting to the news that not only Vanessa, but he too could potentially be exposed to the HIV virus, if they were not extremely careful. He wanted desperately to comfort his mother, tell her not to worry, everything would be fine but at this point he wasn't even sure of that himself. He became vaguely aware that Dr. Jackson was asking him a question.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if Vanessa was taking any form of birth control."

Joe realized Dr. Jackson was implying Vanessa could become pregnant as a result of the rape. That turned out to be more than Joe could take. All the color drained from his face and his vision started to fade. He felt his stomach start to churn. He broke out in a cold sweat and felt as if he were gasping for air.

He felt hands pushing him forward, forcing his head between his knees. He heard voices although they sounded far away.

"Slow, deep breaths, Joe. That's it. Slow and easy." He focused on doing what the voices told him. '_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. I can do that.'_

After several minutes, he finally felt steady enough to lift his head. He leaned back in the chair, keeping his eyes closed. '_Maybe if I don't open my eyes, this will all go away. I'll wake up at home, next to Vanessa. It'll just be a really bad dream.'_

He slowly opened his eyes to the concerned faces of his family. "I'm okay now. I'm okay," he said quietly. Looking at Dr. Jackson he replied, "Yeah, she takes some kind of pills but I don't know what they're called."

"That's okay, Joe." Dr. Jackson patted his knee. "At least we can be fairly certain the pregnancy test will come back negative."

"Can I see her now?" Joe asked, pleadingly.

"Of course." A nurse seemed to appear out of nowhere and escorted Joe to Vanessa's hospital room.

Dr. Jackson turned to Chief Collig. "You'll have to wait until tomorrow, at the earliest, to talk to Vanessa. Even if she regains consciousness tonight, she won't be awake long enough to give you much of a statement. You can check with the receptionist on the way out to pick up the evidence collection kit."

He then turned to face the Hardys. "I'll check on Vanessa in the morning. Please let the nurses know if you need anything at all." With that, he returned to the emergency room.

Both Ezra Collig and Con Riley were secretly relieved they wouldn't be questioning Vanessa that evening. Both of them knew initial questioning by the police could be just as traumatic as the rape itself. They left shortly after Dr. Jackson, asking Fenton to let them know if there was anything they could do.

With Vanessa now treated and in a room, Joe by her side and the police gone, the waiting area was eerily quiet. The cumulative effects of the evening's events finally began to show on the Hardy family. Feeling she no longer had to contain her emotions for Joe's sake, Laura broke down in her husband's arms.

Callie turned to Frank and buried her face in his shoulder, closing her eyes. When Frank had confessed earlier that evening that he had been relieved it wasn't Callie who had been attacked, she realized it very easily could have been and the thought terrified her. Vanessa had just been going about her normal day. A simple case of crossed signals and missed messages between her and Joe – something that had happened to Callie and Frank on occasion – resulted in this night of horror. Suddenly she felt very vulnerable and not at all safe. She held tighter to Frank, who returned the embrace. She heard Laura crying openly and realized she hadn't shed a tear all night. Was she in shock at what had happened to her best friend? Was it a self defense mechanism? '_I can't cry_,' Callie thought. '_If I start, I'll never stop_.' She wanted to be strong for Frank. He'd always been there for her, without fail, and now with Frank at a loss as to how to help Joe, she knew he would need her more than ever.

Fenton Hardy surveyed his family and felt himself holding back tears. He knew the sooner the police could interview a victim, the better; but in this case he almost hoped it could be put off indefinitely. If it was the serial rapist, and so far all indications said that it was, Vanessa wouldn't be able to tell them much anyway.

He had grabbed all his victims from behind when they were alone and isolated – no witnesses to the initial abduction. He would then hit them with some type of blunt object – which was never recovered – rendering them almost unconscious. They were then transported to a second location where the actual rape would occur. The sadistic bastard always made sure they were not completely unconscious; he obviously wanted them to be aware of what was happening but unable to defend themselves or be cognizant enough to notice or remember anything that could help the police catch him. He never spoke and left no evidence behind, other than his own DNA. It had been run through every database available to law enforcement with no match. Whoever it was had no prior record of sexual assault.

He closed his eyes and held his wife closer. Why Vanessa? Joe had asked him that earlier and now he asked the same thing. He looked towards the ceiling as if asking God for the answer. Why? Why Vanessa? What did she do to deserve this? And what about Joe? Everyone knew he'd be devastated but his reaction was much worse than anyone had imagined. How much was he supposed to take in one lifetime? Taking Iola Morton wasn't enough? And now, on top of everything else, he was starting to remember that awful, terrifying weekend from his childhood. He began to fear for his youngest son's sanity and found himself becoming angry with the God he so often turned to for comfort. He wanted answers, needed answers, and they weren't coming.

'_Get a hold of yourself, Hardy. You have to stay in control and get your family through this.'_

His mind wandered back to the night three months ago, when Joe and Vanessa had shown up at the Hardys to announce they were engaged. Fenton could not have been more thrilled and Laura was beside herself with excitement. Like Frank, they too felt Vanessa had given them back their son. Over the years since he and Vanessa had been together, Joe had slowly returned to the happy, care free person he had been prior to Iola's death. Fenton couldn't remember when it started, but he realized he had already thought of Vanessa as a daughter. Her bubbly, outgoing personality was a perfect match for Joe. He knew the rape would have a permanent effect on her and prayed that with a lot of love and support from Joe and her family and friends, she would eventually be close to the same vivacious person they all loved. He couldn't bear to think of her going through the fear, anxiety and depression that followed some rape victims throughout their entire lives.

"Fenton?" His wife's voice broke into his thoughts. "I want to stay here tonight. They're both going to need us." Then she gasped. "Oh my God! I never got a hold of Andrea!"

Vanessa's mother was out of town at a conference and Laura hadn't had any luck tracking her down.

"Don't worry about it, honey. I'll take care of it." He paused a moment wondering how he was going to break the news to Andrea. "I asked Dr. Jackson to make arrangements for us to stay here tonight. She's in room 332. Why don't you go on up and I'll call Andrea."

Laura turned to Frank and Callie, expecting them to follow her. Frank immediately looked to his father for help.

"Why don't the two of you go on home," he said quickly. "There's nothing you can do tonight. Try and get some sleep." He looked meaningfully at Frank. "They're both going to need a lot of support, especially in the next few weeks."

Frank nodded his understanding. He and Callie both hugged Fenton and Laura, making them promise to call if anything happened during the night and left the hospital holding tightly to each other. Laura headed for the elevator and Fenton stepped outside to call Andrea on his cell phone.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Again thank you to EVERYONE for continuing to read. If I'm going to put the characters in these kinds of situations, I want to make it as realistic as possible. One of my pet peeves is when writers put the characters through a terrible trauma or major injury and then a few days later, they are fine. So if I'm going to write it, I'm going to make it as real and believable and true to life as I can. I promise they will get through this. Thanks again. :)

Guilty

Chapter 13

Joe followed the nurse to the third floor. They stopped outside of Room 332. "Here's her room. Your father arranged for a private room so you can stay the night with her if you like."

'_Thank you, Dad_.'

"Ring for the nurse if you need anything at all."

With that, she disappeared down the hall. Joe stared at the closed door in front of him. His eyes wandered over to the handwritten card stuck in the holder attached to the wall that read _'Bender, Vanessa'_. Now he knew how she felt all those times she had approached a hospital room and saw his name next to the door.

Joe slowly pushed the door open and took a few tentative steps inside. The room was almost dark, except for a small nightlight that had been left on. Very slowly, he approached the bed and stared at his fiancée. His mind flashed back to the many times he'd come home in the middle of the night after a stake out or checking out a lead. An involuntary smile came to his lips. He had always told Vanessa not to wait up for him. More often than not, however, Joe would find her fast asleep with a light on and a book or magazine clutched loosely in her hands, evidence she had once again ignored his request. She always wanted to be there for him when he got home, in case he needed to talk, vent, rage or, if the case were particularly difficult, just needed to be held. She looked so similar right now, Joe half expected her to wake up and greet him with the same sleepy "Hey, Baby, you're home." as she always did.

Sadly, he reached down and gently took her hand. Almost immediately, Vanessa let out a small cry and tried to pull away. Joe gasped and dropped her hand, taking a step back. His heart started pounding and he started to get that same churning feeling in his stomach. He found it getting hard to breathe again. The walls felt like they were closing in on him.

'_Stop it, Joe! Stop! There's no one here to help you this time.'_ He found himself desperately wishing for his brother and fully expected to feel a hand on his shoulder as Frank had an uncanny knack for appearing out of nowhere when Joe needed him most. It took a few seconds for Joe to realize his brother wasn't going to save him this time.

'_It's okay, it's okay, I can do this on my own,' _he thought trying to calm himself. '_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.'_ He could feel his heart rate start to slow down; his breathing became less labored, more even.

"_Vanessa needs you!"_

It was his father's voice echoing in his head now. _"You cannot let her see you like this. YOU need to be the strong one."_ He opened his eyes and approached the bed once again. "I will, Dad. I will," he promised softly.

Again, he reached for Vanessa's hand at the same time leaning over to speak to her. "Hey, it's me, Babe. I'm here." Very gently, Joe touched the back of her hand, fully expecting her to pull away again. He thought he saw her hand move away slightly – or did he? He had so expected her to recoil at his touch, maybe he just imagined it.

"You're safe now. I'm right here with you." He slowly closed his hand over hers, being careful of the bruises that had begun to appear on her wrists. He felt the uncontrollable anger start up again. '_Handcuffs!'_ he thought with a burning rage. '_No. Don't go there. Stay in control!'_

Very gently, Joe began to stroke her hair with his free hand and focused on her face. '_She's so beautiful._ _At least that bastard didn't hit her.' _There were no cuts, no bruises visible anywhere other than her wrists. He could almost pretend she was just sleeping.

Joe leaned over a little further and rested his head on the pillow next to hers. He continued stroking her hair and talking to her in a soothing, gentle voice.

"I'm right here, Babe. Right by your side. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise."

Joe knew that many medical experts believed if you spoke to someone in a coma, they really could hear what you were saying. He hoped that held true for those who were unconscious too. He continued talking to Vanessa, wanting her to know she was safe now, that she didn't have to be afraid anymore. He was by her side and had no intention of leaving until he could take her home with him.

oooOOOooo

Fenton Hardy looked at his watch. One-thirty in the morning. Six and a half hours since he had gotten the phone call from Ezra Collig. He leaned back in the hard vinyl chair in Vanessa's hospital room and closed he eyes. The events of the night had been an emotional whirlwind, leaving him exhausted but his mind refused to stop. When was this guy going to strike again? There had to be a pattern to the attacks. He had methodically planned everything else – the cities where he raped, the number of rapes in each city. There had to be a pattern as to when the next one would occur. '_Damn, why can't I see it!'_ he cursed himself. If only they'd caught this guy in Kirkland or Southport. He couldn't believe how guilty he felt. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Joe was going through.

Fenton opened his eyes and looked at his wife curled up on the small, hard couch; more like a love seat really. He looked across the room at the hospital bed where Joe was asleep, his arms wrapped tightly around Vanessa. She appeared to be clinging to him for dear life, even though she was sleeping. Earlier she had become extremely agitated and upset, even though she hadn't really regained consciousness. When Joe spoke to her in a soothing voice she seemed to sense he was there. When he had climbed onto the bed and held her in his arms, she finally started to calm down. He had fallen asleep holding her. Every so often Vanessa would let out a small cry, and he knew she was reliving the brutal assault in her dreams.

Luckily a private room had been available that evening. Fenton was more than willing to pay the extra cost to ensure privacy for Vanessa and emotional support for Joe. Dr. Jackson had made arrangements to allow Fenton and Laura to stay the night in the small hospital room as well.

Frank's confession earlier that evening in the hospital corridor had left Fenton speechless. He had grown so used to Frank always knowing just how to handle Joe it never occurred to him that Frank would be at a loss as to how to comfort and support his younger brother now. Joe needed to be there for Vanessa. Frank needed to be there for Joe. Callie needed to be there for Frank. Laura would always be there for her children. Fenton needed to be there for all of them. '_Who's going to be there for me?' _he thought sadly.

Unable to sleep, he thought of the irony of what had happened. Over the years many of the criminals Fenton, Frank and Joe had put away vowed revenge on them and those they loved. Many had tried to extract that revenge, vowing to destroy the close-knit family. All of them failed. Yet tonight a total stranger, in what appeared to be a random act of violence, may have succeeded where all the rest had failed. His sons were falling apart before his eyes. Fenton Hardy couldn't shake the overwhelming fear that his family's own personal nightmare was just beginning.

oooOOOooo

As Vanessa slowly began to wake up, she became aware of a constant dull throbbing in her head. The bed she was lying in was hard; not the big, soft, comfortable bed she loved at home. Where was she? She readjusted her legs to get more comfortable and gasped in pain. _'God that hurt!'_ Tears sprang to her eyes automatically. She felt someone touch her hair. Instinctively she threw up her arms in defense and tried to scoot to the far side of the bed, each movement resulting in even more pain.

"No! _Please_! Leave me alone!" she cried out, trying to make herself as small as possible. '_Everything hurts! Why does it hurt so much? God, please, make is stop hurting!'_

"Vanessa, Babe, it's me. Joe. You're safe now, Honey. It's okay. You're safe."

Vanessa opened her eyes a crack. The light made her head pound even more.

"Joe?" she asked fearfully.

"Yeah, I'm here, Babe."

Immediately she reached out for him. Joe sat on the bed and Vanessa crawled into his arms. He gently rocked her back and forth, smoothing her hair. As Vanessa began to fully awaken, the events of the night before came flooding back to her. She started trembling, trying desperately to choke back tears.

Joe held her, still stroking her hair. "It's okay, Baby. Let it out."

Vanessa shook her head no. She didn't _want_ to let it out. She hated losing control, but she couldn't hold it back. She had no idea how long she cried, clinging to Joe like a lifeline. He held her, whispering to her, trying his best to comfort her, although he knew nothing he said could take away the pain.

Finally, the tears slowed to a trickle. Joe thought he heard her mumble something.

"What did you say, Hon?"

Barely above a whisper, she repeated, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Joe closed his eyes, resting his chin on her head. '_No, no, no, no! She can't possibly think any of this was her fault!'_ Joe felt his eyes sting with tears and the burning rage he'd been suppressing all night threatened to come exploding back to the surface. '_No, I can't lose it now.'_ He heard his fathers voice once again. _"You have to be the strong one." _And then he heard Vanessa speaking softly.

"If I had just checked my messages one more time before I left. If I had just called you one more time to make sure you got my message." Her lower lip trembled. "This never would have happened."

Joe was on the verge of losing control again. He took a deep breath to calm himself and looked into Vanessa's eyes for the first time since the assault. The pain he saw there was almost unbearable for him. '_When I find this bastard he'll be sorry he was ever born!_ '

"Listen to me. There is no way any of this was your fault. None! Understand? So you didn't check your messages. You didn't call me one more time. That doesn't give anyone the right to hurt you!"

Vanessa nodded silently but her eyes said she disagreed.

"No one is going to blame you," Joe continued. "_No one_!"

Just then, the door opened and a nurse walked in.

"Good morning. I'm Karen." She smiled at Vanessa. Joe moved out of the way as Karen reached for the blood pressure cuff. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Vanessa hesitated a moment. "Sore," she replied quietly. Joe stiffened. It took every ounce of self-control to keep his anger hidden. "And my head really hurts."

"Are your eyes sensitive to light?"

"Yes."

"That's to be expected. You took a pretty nasty bump on the head." Karen was silent while she took Vanessa's blood pressure and recorded it on her chart. "That should improve over the next few days. Dr. Jackson will be in to see you shortly. I'll have a breakfast tray sent up for you," Karen said as she turned to leave.

"Thank you," Vanessa replied, although she didn't feel much like eating. She leaned back against the pillow, closing her eyes and felt the tears well up again.

"Van? Are you okay?" Joe asked softly.

'_I'll __never__ be okay again,'_ she thought, but nodded mutely. _'Why? Why did this happen to me?'_ She felt the tears spill over onto her cheeks.

"Oh, Baby, I'm so sorry." Joe started to reach for her.

"Please, don't," she whispered. Seeing the look in his eyes, she immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. I just…I feel so…dirty." _'Will he ever want to touch me again? Will I ever want him to?'_

Joe willed himself not to cry. The last thing Vanessa needed was to see him break down.

"Well, I still see the same beautiful woman I saw yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. I love you, Van. Nothing will ever change that."

She reached out and squeezed his hand. Looking down, she noticed the bandage on his right hand.

"What happened to your hand?" she asked, concerned.

"I, uh, broke a coffee mug. Cut my hand," Joe said quickly. _'It's not a total lie,'_ he thought remembering his violent outburst the night before. The coffee mug had been broken when he had flung it across the room and he did end up cutting his hand. He held his breath hoping she would not ask for any further explanation. He hated lying to her but this time the truth was not an option. Luckily, he was saved from any further questions when Karen came back in.

"The police are here to see you, Vanessa. Dr. Jackson got called away on an emergency but he said if you feel up to it, you can see them."

Vanessa looked at Joe. "They must be here to take your statement," he told her. "If you don't want to do it now, they can come back."

"I'd rather just get it over with. Will you stay with me?"

Joe hoped what he was feeling inside was not written on his face. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was listen to Vanessa recount the awful details of the rape. But the haunted look in her eyes kept him right by her side.

"I'll do whatever you want, Babe."

"Thank you." She turned to Karen. "Ask them to come in."

Ezra Collig, Con Riley, Jeff Kroner and two female officers walked into the room.

"Hello, Vanessa," Chief Collig smiled at her. "This is Detective Julie Barbone and her partner Crystal Phillips. I thought you might be more comfortable talking to them." At that moment, Joe regretted every sarcastic comment he had ever made about Chief Collig having no heart.

Vanessa looked at the two women. Julie Barbone was a tall, striking redhead with brilliant green eyes. Her easy smile made Vanessa feel a little more comfortable. Crystal Phillips was several inches shorter than her partner, with light brown hair and matching brown eyes. The two women seemed very comfortable with each other and started making small talk with Vanessa in an effort to get her to relax as much as the situation would allow.

As the three men turned to leave the room, Con stopped and waited for Joe to join them.

When Joe didn't move, Con raised his eyebrows and looked at Joe questioningly.

"You're not staying?" he asked quietly.

"She asked me to stay. She needs me."

Con shook his head in disbelief. "Joe, you can't -"

"I'm not leaving her!" Joe growled at him.

Con wasn't sure whether he admired Joe or thought he had lost his mind. Knowing Fenton and Laura had gone to the airport to pick up Andrea, Con told Joe he'd wait in the hall just in case he needed anything and left. Joe turned back to Vanessa, who clutched his hand tightly, took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I was sitting at the bus stop on Greenridge Road. The last bus had pulled away just as I came around the corner so I was the only one there. As soon as I sat down the streetlight burned out so it was really dark. I was getting cold so I got up and started walking back and forth in front of the bench to keep warm. Next thing I knew I was on my knees seeing stars. Someone hit me over the head…" her voice trailed off.

'_Stay in control. Stay calm,'_ Joe told himself. He knew Vanessa needed him there with her, but he wasn't sure how much he could listen to without losing control.

"No...wait…" Vanessa frowned in concentration. She stared at the wall as if whatever she was searching for in her memory would be found there. "I was walking in front of the bench when someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. He punched me in the stomach and I doubled over. That's when he hit me in the head." She looked apologetically at the detectives. "I'm sorry. I guess it's still a little confusing."

The red headed officer was saying something to Vanessa but Joe didn't hear it. _'He hit her…__twice__!'_ Joe was seething with rage again, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He could not wait to get his hands on the man who had done this to Vanessa. _'You are going to be so sorry…'_

"Vanessa, were you able to get a look at him at all? Maybe just a glimpse?" Detective Barbone asked.

Vanessa shook her head. "I've been having trouble with a computer program at work. I was so caught up in thinking about that I never even heard him. I guess I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings," she said quietly. "Maybe this wouldn't have hap –"

"It's not your fault!" Joe cut her off but quickly softened his voice. "I'm sorry, Babe, but I hate to see you blaming yourself. You didn't do anything wrong."

"He's right, Vanessa," the red headed officer continued. "You're still alive. So whatever you had to do to survive was the right thing to do. The only person who is at fault is the man who did this."

Joe smiled at the officer gratefully_. 'Maybe if she hears it from someone other than me, she'll start to believe it.'_

"So he hit you over the head with something and you fell to your knees," Detective Phillips picked up her story. "What happened after that?"

"I was trying to stay awake. I didn't want to black out. I didn't want him to take me somewhere else, but I could barely keep my eyes open. He picked me up and carried me to a car and threw me across the backseat. Then he went around to the other side and opened the door by my head. I tried to lift my head up, to look at him, but when I moved I felt like I was going to throw up. And when I could keep my eyes open I kept seeing double images of everything." She shook her head at the memory.

"Then he grabbed my arms…no, first just one arm and pulled it over my head. He put something on my wrist. Then he pulled my other arm up and did the same thing. I heard a click and realized he handcuffed me to the door handle."

'_I can't do this. I can't listen to this,'_ Joe thought as he started to panic_. 'God, she hasn't even gotten to the part where he…'_ He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. _'Breathe in, breathe out. You __cannot__ lose control now. Take a deep breath. Focus on something – anything but what she's saying.'_ He stared at the plastic ID bracelet on her wrist, trying to block out the words.

"He got in the car and pulled away. My head really started to hurt then and I passed out. When I came to he was pulling me out of the car. He was behind me, dragging me and then I hit him."

"You hit him how?" Detective Barbone asked.

"With my elbow. I hit him in the head. He let go of me and I tried to run but he caught me again." She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows.

"Van?" Joe said quietly. "Are you okay? If this is too hard…"

"No. I want to get it over with," she said wearily. Seeing the look in Joe's eyes, she felt torn. _'He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be hearing this. It'll kill him. But I can't do this alone.'_

As if reading her mind, Joe squeezed her hand. "I'm right here, Babe. I'm with you all the way."

Vanessa closed her eyes again. She did not want to see Joe's face, knowing the worst was yet to come. "He grabbed me around the waist and threw me on the ground. I hit my head again – hard – and almost passed out. I really wanted to this time. I hoped I would but…" A few tears slid down her cheeks. She clutched Joe's hand tighter and tighter as she gave the graphic details of the assault. Eyes tightly shut, she told the two detectives everything she could remember, concluding with the passer by who had found her.

"He put something over me. His coat I guess. I heard him talking, calling for help. He kept telling me I was safe now and help was coming." She finally opened her eyes. "I don't remember anything after that until I woke up this morning."

Slowly turning her head, she looked at Joe. The look on his face was completely neutral but the look in his eyes scared her to death. _'What have I done?'_ She had never seen such pure hatred before and it terrified her.

"Joe?" she said quietly. He didn't respond.

"Joe," she repeated louder. She looked down at their clasped hands and gasped. "Joe, you're bleeding!" She pulled on his arm, finally getting his attention.

"Huh? What?"

"Your hand. It's bleeding!"

He looked down and saw the blood seeping through the bandage on his right hand. While Vanessa had been holding tightly to his left hand, his right hand had instinctively balled into a fist. As Vanessa had been talking, he had been clenching the fist harder and harder until it finally re-opened the laceration on his hand.

"I'll get a nurse," Detective Phillips said hurrying out the door.

"I'm sorry, Joe. I never should have asked you to stay," Vanessa cried.

"Sssh. It's okay, Baby," Joe tried to comfort her. "I'll always be here for you. _Always_. No matter what."

Detective Phillips returned with Karen who was closely followed by Andrea Bender and Fenton and Laura Hardy. Andrea immediately rushed to her daughter's side, hugging her tightly. Vanessa clung to her mother, letting the tears flow freely.

Joe let his parents pull him away and out into the hall, grateful to escape the suddenly claustrophobic room. He was aware of his parents talking to him, of Karen asking him questions and bandaging his hand but all he could hear was Vanessa's voice, describing the rape in vivid detail.

'_handcuffed…threw me on the ground…tore my clothes… felt his hands…'_

Joe nodded at his mother, having no idea what she had just asked him. He heard his father say something about food and then he was alone. He wandered down to the window at the end of the hall and looked out at the bright blue morning sky.

"Where are you, Frank?" he whispered. "I really need you, Bro..."


	14. Chapter 14

TraSan, Pandora, Cheryl, Lina – thank you! Your comments are always so appreciated. :)

Alicia – Glad you found this story! I've realized a lot of people don't know it exists. Heck, even I didn't know the 'M' page existed until I couldn't seem to find this story even though I knew I'd uploaded it; not until Phoenix kindly pointed it out to me! LOL! But I'm glad you're here now and thank you so much for taking the time to review!

Guilty

Chapter 14

Frank and Callie exited the elevator on the third floor and followed the signs towards Vanessa's room. As they turned a corner Frank stopped short. At the end of the hall, Joe was standing against a wall with a look of anguish on his face that Frank could not even begin to comprehend. Reaching up Joe started to run both hands through his hair and then stopped. Holding his head in his hands, he seemed to be staring at the floor and rocking back and forth. Even from a distance, Frank could see he was shaking badly.

Over the years, Frank had suffered all kinds of physical pain but nothing had prepared him for the pain he felt watching his brother go through this. It was without a doubt the worst form of torture he had ever endured. He felt a slight pull on his hand and looked at Callie. She nudged him forward with an encouraging look.

"Go on, Frank. He needs you." She gave him a little push in Joe's direction. "Don't worry. I'll be right here if you need me."

Frank nodded and very slowly started walking towards his brother. _'I've never seen him like this. Even after Iola died, he wasn't this bad.'_ For the first time in his life, he had absolutely no idea what to say to Joe. He wanted to grab his brother and run as fast and as far as he could to help him escape this nightmare. At the same time he just wanted to run away – _alone_ – and not have to watch Joe go through this mental and emotional torture. Between the ever-increasing flashbacks he was having to that weekend seventeen years ago and now Vanessa's rape, Frank was very afraid Joe was rapidly heading towards a break down.

'_Come on. Help him. He needs you!'_ a voice in his head called out. _'But I don't know how! What do I say? What am I supposed to do?'_ He felt himself starting to panic. _'Calm down. Just relax; you'll think of something.'_

He had been playing the big brother so long, rescuing Joe so often it had become second nature to him. How could he be so lost now, when Joe needed him more than ever? _'Come on, Frank. You're the perfect big brother. Everyone has been telling you that for years. Just let instinct take over.'_

Suddenly hearing Frank's footsteps, Joe looked up. His blue eyes were filled with grief and bright with unshed tears. More than anything, Frank wanted to turn and run. Instead, he took a few more steps and put his arms around Joe. Pulling Joe in close, he held him as tightly as he could. _'That's it. You've got it now,'_ the voice in his head told him. _'Now don't let go, no matter what.'_

Joe buried his head in Frank's chest and began to sob uncontrollably. Frank was immediately transported back to their childhood. Whenever Joe had a bad dream and awoke terrified in the middle of the night he would run not to his parents, but straight into Frank's room. Frank would allow Joe to crawl into bed next to him, wrapping his arms protectively around his little brother. If the nightmare had been especially bad, he would bury his head in Frank's chest and cry himself to sleep. _'The only problem now is, this nightmare is real,'_ Frank thought.

It was several minutes before Joe pulled away and wiped his eyes.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely.

Frank was stunned by the haunted look in Joe's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Joe. I wish I could make it better for you."

"Me too," Joe replied, wiping at his eyes again. "They just took her statement," he whispered looking at the closed door to Vanessa's room.

Realization suddenly dawned on Frank. "You mean you were in there when she gave her statement?" he asked in disbelief.

Joe nodded, as a few more tears escaped.

"Joe, _why_? Why would you put yourself through that?" He was shocked.

"She asked me to stay. She needed me. I couldn't leave her, Frank, no matter how much it hurt to hear it." He choked back a sob, unable to get the horrible images Vanessa's statement had conjured up out of his mind.

Frank looked at his brother with a new found respect. Had the situation been reversed, he didn't know if he could have done the same thing.

Joe leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. Frank sat down next to him, resting a hand on Joe's back reassuringly. As Joe stared silently at the opposite wall, Frank couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at how drastically everything had changed in less than twenty-four hours.

"Handcuffs," Joe whispered, still staring at the wall.

"What?" Frank asked, confused.

"He used handcuffs. To restrain her. So she couldn't escape," Joe continued in the same whisper.

'_Oh, no. No, no, no,'_ Frank thought, panicking. _'He needs to talk about it. NO! I do __not__ want to hear this!'_

"She tried, you know. She tried to run. But he…he grabbed her. Threw her on the ground and…"

"Joe, stop it!" Frank practically yelled. Joe looked at him startled and confused. "Don't do this to yourself, Joe."

'_Don't do this to me!'_ Frank wanted to scream at him. _'I know you need someone to talk to but I do not want to hear this. I don't want to see you tear yourself apart imagining what happened.'_

"I'm…sorry." Joe sensed Frank's uneasiness and pulled away from him. Standing up Joe looked down the hall. "Did you see a bathroom when you came in? I need to get cleaned up before I go back in."

Frank pointed towards the end of the hall. "Down there. Turn left."

Joe nodded and started down the hall. Frank watched for a moment as Callie stopped him and spoke to him in a low voice.

Frank rested his head on his forearms and closed his eyes. _'God, please help me.'_

He felt someone sit down on the floor next to him and needed only one whiff of perfume to know it was Callie. She put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head.

"I can't do this, Callie," he said without lifting his head. "I can't watch him do this to himself."

Callie was torn. She hated to see Frank hurting like this but she knew Joe needed him more than ever right now. She also knew if Frank turned his back on Joe now, even to protect himself, he would regret it for the rest of his life. She had no idea what to say to him and was grateful when she heard Laura Hardy's voice.

"Frank, Callie." Laura and Fenton were hurrying down the hall towards them. "When did you get here? Where's Joe?" she asked anxiously, looking around.

"He's in the bathroom," Callie replied. She stood up and discreetly steered Laura towards that end of the hall, sensing Frank needed to speak with his father alone.

Frank looked up at his father. Silently, Fenton extended a hand to his son, pulling him to his feet. They walked to the empty waiting area and sat down. Frank sat, staring at his hands and finally spoke very quietly.

"I don't think I can do this, Dad." When his father remained silent, Frank looked up and met his eyes. "Have you seen him, Dad? Have you talked to him? Do you know he sat with Vanessa when she gave her statement?"

"What?" Fenton's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Why would he put himself through that? If she didn't want to be alone they could have called a counselor or a nurse. He shouldn't have been there."

"I know, but she asked him to stay and he wouldn't leave her." Frank felt his eyes starting to burn. "I've never seen him like this - _never_. It just hurts so much to watch him and know there's nothing I can do."

"Frank, I know this is hard for you. But his whole life he's always depended on you. He is going to need someone to talk to. I'll be here to help you, son, but I don't know that he'll open up to anyone but you. He needs to know he can count on you. _**I**_ need to know he can count on you."

Frank shook his head, allowing a few tears to escape. "As if the reality isn't bad enough, he's torturing himself thinking about Vanessa's statement. He started to tell me what she said and…" he stopped a moment. "I guess I yelled at him but, Dad, I don't need to know every detail to know how horrible it was for her."

"He can't keep all this bottled up inside." Fenton hated asking Frank to do something that was so obviously tearing him apart. But he knew if Joe didn't feel he could turn to his brother for help, he would shut down and try to deal with everything on his own. He had an overwhelming fear that would be devastating for his entire family. "He needs to know he can talk to you, Frank."

"I know, Dad," Frank sighed.

Looking at his father, Frank began to realize just how strong, emotionally, he really was and how much he had always taken it for granted. His father had been the one to break the news to Joe and had been there to help him get through the initial shock. He had been the one who told Frank and Callie and Laura and Andrea. He had been there for all of them.

'_We expect him to be there; to be able to handle anything,'_ Frank thought. _'And he never expects anything in return from us.'_

Frank made a promise to himself to do what his father was asking and be there for Joe. He just had one more hurdle he needed to get past. He hoped his father had the answer.

"There's just one more thing, Dad," Frank said hesitantly.

"What is it, son?"

"How do I get past the guilt? And the shame? You know, for being grateful that it didn't happen to my wife?"

Looking past Frank into the hall, Fenton suddenly sat up a little straighter.

"Frank, don't…" he started to say.

Assuming his father was going to tell him he shouldn't feel guilty, Frank interrupted. "I can't help it, Dad."

"No, you don't understand…"

Frank was oblivious to the urgency in his father's voice. "Every time I think about it, I thank God that Callie wasn't the one who was raped and -"

A loud gasp caused him to rapidly turn around. All the color drained from his face as he looked into Joe's devastated blue eyes. Immediately he reached out to his younger brother.

"Joe, listen to me. Please! I didn't mean -"

"You're glad it was Vanessa who was raped?" Joe stared at his brother incredulously. In his head he knew that was not what Frank had meant; but right now he was thinking with his heart and his emotions and they had just been turned upside down.

"No!" Frank exclaimed. "God, no! I would never…"

Joe's eyes suddenly turned very cold.

"Leave me alone," he said, backing away from Frank. The tone of his voice matched the chill in his eyes. "Leave us alone."

Joe quickly turned and left the waiting area not wanting anyone to see just how devastated he was. Returning to Vanessa's room, he slowly pushed the door open. Turning to look at him, Andrea Bender put one finger to her lips and then pointed at Vanessa who was asleep once again. Releasing her daughter's hand, she motioned for Joe to join her on the small couch.

"Andrea, I'm so sorry. This is all my fau-" Joe began.

"Stop it, Joe," Andrea said, holding up a hand. "I just heard the same thing from Vanessa - it was all _her_ fault. You are both wrong." Softening her tone, she took Joe's hand in hers and continued. "There is only one person to blame and that is the miserable excuse for a human being who did this to my daughter."

Looking at Andrea, Joe was once again impressed with her amazing inner strength, a trait Vanessa shared with her to a certain degree. It was obvious Andrea had cried over what had happened to her daughter; her red rimmed eyes and tear stained face were clear evidence of that. But Joe knew that after the tears stopped, Andrea had become a source of strength for Vanessa and would continue to do so as long as Vanessa needed it.

"Joe, I know how much you love my daughter. You've always done everything in your power to protect her. Please don't blame yourself for this." Looking at her future son-in-law, Andrea didn't see the macho, tough guy Joe liked everyone to think he was, but rather a very tired, confused and emotionally drained young man. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she knew something else was bothering him. She also knew him well enough to know he would not open up to her. Putting an arm around him, she pulled him close. He let his head rest on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he was asleep. Quietly, Andrea got up, allowing Joe to curl up on the small couch and get some much needed rest.

_Joe peered out into the mist, squinting, as if that would help him see through the heavy fog that had rolled in. He wandered along the deserted street searching for…what? The night was eerily quiet and still. He hadn't seen another soul. Where was everyone?_

_Suddenly a piercing scream split the night air. Joe froze. Another scream, this one causing his blood to run cold._

_Vanessa! He knew it was her. He would recognize her scream anywhere._

_"Vanessa!" he yelled. A third scream, this one filled with fear and pain._

_"Vanessa, where are you?!" he yelled again, feeling the panic start to overtake him._

_Another scream, this one worse than all the others. He ran towards the sound faster than he ever thought possible. Rounding a corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide with horror at what he saw._

_"NO!!" he cried out in anguish._

_Vanessa was pinned to the ground by a man kneeling over her, tearing at her clothes._

_"No! Stop!" Joe screamed "STOP!!"_

_The man never turned towards Joe but Vanessa looked at him, tears running down her cheeks. "Joe. Please… __help__me__…"_

_Joe tried to run, to get to her, but it was as if he were running through quicksand. He could only watch, horrified and helpless, unable to stop the brutal assault.._

Joe woke up in a panic, tears running down his face. Immediately he bolted for the tiny bathroom and became violently ill. This time he remembered the entire dream. This time he wished he could forget. This time he had seen Vanessa being raped.

He splashed cold water on his face and filling a paper cup, took a few sips. Looking in the mirror he hardly recognized the person staring back at him. What little sleep he'd gotten could hardly be called restful. Dark circles were already forming under his eyes, which reflected a haunted, tortured look. Leaning on the sink he closed his eyes as the events of the past twenty-four hours whirled through his mind.

Was it just twenty-four hours ago that he had been trying to convince Vanessa to skip work for the day and spend it with him? It now seemed like that had happened in a different lifetime. The scenes flashed before his eyes: coming home to his father and brother; getting the devastating news; the violent, uncontrollable rage that followed; listening as the doctor laid out what Vanessa's future would include; listening to her give every detail of the assault; and Frank…

He choked back a sob. Did Frank really say he was relieved that it was Vanessa who had been raped? Thinking back on the confrontation with his brother, he hoped he had dreamt that too.


	15. Chapter 15

Phx – Thanks for the comments! What a nice surprise they were!! :D Wow, I know I've done my job if your heart is breaking for Frank!! LOL!

TraSan – You hit it on the head. And in a situation like this, it's hard for anybody NOT to think with their emotions.

Pandora – I totally understand. I will admit I got depressed myself while writing this story and had to take a break. But again, I'd rather do that and write it realistically than give everyone a quick, unbelievable happy ending just so the characters (and the readers!) didn't have to deal with the reality of it. If you have to take a break, I know exactly where you're coming from. :)

Alicia – Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel but I'll be honest, it's not coming any time soon. This is actually a two-part story and while I absolutely LOVE my happy endings, it's just gonna take us a while to get there. And I'm with you about Frank – I think he's the most awesome big brother in the world but he's not perfect. In my mind, Frank rarely makes mistakes but when he does, they are pretty big ones. Frank and Joe will 'make up' but it'll be a roller coaster ride for them to get there.

Thanks again to everyone for reading!

**Guilty**

**Chapter 15**

Frank stared, open mouthed and speechless, as his brother turned and left the waiting area. He started to follow, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Turning around, he faced his father.

"Let him go, Frank," he said softly.

"I can't! I have to make him understand!" Frank pulled his arm free.

"He won't hear you. It'll just escalate and he'll become even angrier with you." Fenton sat down again with Laura sitting next to him. "With all the flashbacks he's starting to have, I'm afraid everything is going to come flooding back. He'll never be able to handle it in his current state of mind."

"I thought he only had two flashbacks," Frank's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me now?" he snapped.

Callie stared at her husband. She had never heard him talk to his father like that.

"Frank!" his mother reprimanded him, angrily. "For your information, it happened before you got to the emergency room last night. Right after you got there, Dr. Jackson came out to talk to Joe. Right after that, you and Callie left. You just got here a few minutes ago. When exactly were we supposed to tell you?"

Sitting down, Frank leaned forward and put his head in his hands. He'd been at the hospital less than thirty minutes and already he'd managed to alienate Joe and take out his frustration on his father.

"I'm sorry Dad. That was a cheap shot. You didn't deserve it."

He felt a hand on his back. "That's all right, son. Sometimes that's what fathers are for."

Frank looked up into his fathers tired, but understanding, brown eyes. _'Will I ever be as good a father as he is?'_ he thought.

"No, it's not all right, Dad, but thanks for saying it is." He smiled gratefully, then became serious. "What happened last night? Did Joe remember something?"

Fenton hesitated, glancing quickly at Callie and then back at Frank.

Frank looked at Callie, squeezing her hand, and then back at his father. "I told her. I know you want as few people as possible to know but…I really needed someone to talk to."

"Don't worry. Frank explained everything to me," Callie reassured her father-in-law. "I won't say a word."

Nodding, Fenton told them about the young father who had come rushing into the emergency room with his son. He explained how the nurse took the crying boy from this father and how everyone could hear the little boy screaming for his Daddy from the exam room.

"That's almost exactly what happened when I took Joe to the emergency room." He quickly wiped at his eyes. With a little smile he said, "Of course, Joe fought a whole lot harder before the doctor managed to pull him away from me."

"So when Joe saw the little boy last night, he remembered what happened that day?" Callie asked, concerned.

"No, he didn't exactly remember," Laura replied. "It was a flashback - just like the others. For a few seconds he was just terrified. And he asked for his Daddy," she finished looking at her husband.

Looking at his father, Frank realized remembering those three days was just as hard on him as it was going to be on Joe, maybe even harder. He couldn't recall ever seeing his father as disturbed as he was whenever he talked about that weekend. _'If I can't be there for Joe, maybe I can be there for Dad.'_

"I'm sure Joe isn't going to want to see me today and I know he won't let me anywhere near Vanessa. Why don't I go back to the office and see if I can make any progress. Joe is going to be obsessed with catching this guy," Frank said, with a meaningful look at his father. He knew they were both thinking of Joe's violent, uncontrolled rage the night before.

"I think that's a good idea," Fenton replied. "Call me if you find anything."

They all stood up and walked out of the waiting area.

"I'm going to stay a little longer. I'd like to see Vanessa," Callie said giving Frank a hug and a kiss.

"We'll give you a ride home when you're ready to go," Laura told her.

"Thanks, Mom." Frank kissed his mother and hugged his father then turned and headed for the elevator.

oooOOOooo

Returning to the office, Frank pulled the plastic bag containing the torn card Joe had found at the train station from his desk. The card had been nagging at him since the day they found it. He and Joe had spent a day and a half trying to find out exactly what the card was for and had come up empty. He didn't know why but he had a gut feeling it was the key to their investigation. He stared at the card for a few minutes, then picked up the phone, punched in a number and waited for an answer.

"Hello?"

"Phil? It's Frank."

"Frank, hi. Biff called me last night and told me what happened. Man, that is just horrible! How's Vanessa doing? And Joe? He must be going crazy!"

Phil Cohen was an old friend of Hardys. Although he was more studious than their other friends, he had never turned down a chance to help the brothers with their cases. He was a whiz on computers and had started his own company, specializing in computer technology, while still in college. It had become so successful he never had to search for a job upon graduation; he simply expanded his own business.

"Yeah, he's not doing well at all. I'm not sure about Vanessa. I didn't get a chance to see her this morning."

Briefly, Frank explained his quick visit to the hospital that morning including the misunderstanding with Joe.

"Wow, that's tough. Don't worry, though. Deep down Joe knows you'd never think something like that. Give him a few days to calm down. I'm sure once he gets Vanessa home from the hospital and has time to think about it, he'll understand what you meant."

"I hope so."

"Is there anything I can do? I'd love to help you put this guy away. We all would," Phil said, referring to the brothers' many friends who were always eager to help when called upon.

"As a matter of fact, that's why I called. Are you busy right now?"

"Nope, I'm all yours."

"Great. Can I come over? I have something I want you to take a look at."

"Sure. I didn't have anything planned for the day."

"Thanks, Phil. I'll be there in ten minutes."

True to his word, ten minutes later Frank was about to knock on his friend's door when it suddenly opened up.

"Been looking out the window, watching for you," Phil grinned. "Come on in."

Taking off his jacket Frank sat on the couch and extended the plastic bag to his friend.

"Joe found it at one of the crime scenes. We don't really know that it means anything but I just have this gut feeling it's the key to the whole case. We worked on it for a day and a half trying to find something - anything - and came up empty. I was hoping you could use those high tech computers of yours to track down the origin of it."

Phil took the bag and briefly examined the torn card. "Nope, I don't think so."

Frank's face fell. "Why not?"

"Don't need to," Phil smiled. "This is a membership card to an organization called Mensa. It's sort of a social club for people with genius level I.Q.'s. So they can mingle with other people who have the same level of intelligence. Kind of snobbish, if you ask me. Anyone who wants to join has to score in the top two percent of the population on a standardized intelligence test to qualify for membership."

"Mensa!" Franks eyes grew wide. "Can I use your phone?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Frank reached for the phone and quickly dialed his father. When his father answered, Frank didn't even let him finish his greeting.

"Dad, listen! That card Joe found at the train station is a membership card for Mensa!"

"What!?" Frank heard the shock in his father's voice.

"Dad, is Josh Tilghman still in prison?"

"Unless he's escaped he is. He got so many consecutive prison terms he'd have to serve over one hundred years before he was even eligible for parole." Following Frank's train of thought he continued, "Call Sam. Ask him to check and make sure Tilghman is still in prison. Let me know what he says."

"I will. Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen Vanessa this morning? How is she?" he asked with concern.

"Yes, we saw her. I'm afraid she's not doing too well."

"Her injuries are worse than the doctor originally thought?"

"No, it's not that." He heard his father sigh heavily before he continued. "She doesn't want to see anyone other than Joe or Andrea. We only saw her for a few minutes. She wouldn't even look us in the eye. And she was hanging on to Joe like it was a matter of life and death. As upset and confused as she is, I think she knows your mother and I want to be here for Joe so she didn't ask us to leave. But she did tell Callie she'd rather not have any visitors and asked her to pass that on to all your friends."

"Oh, no," Frank murmured. "How's Joe holding up?"

"I have to say, when he's with Vanessa he is supportive, loving, calm, cool and collected. Exactly what she needs. But the second he walks out of that room…Frank, we have to find this guy and soon. If Joe tracks him down before anyone else does - well, right now he wants revenge more than justice."

"I better get back to work then. I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything. Bye."

"Goodbye, Frank."

Frank dialed Sam's number and was soon speaking with Hardy Investigations fourth partner and Fenton's best friend, explaining what he needed.

"So we need to find out where Josh Tilghman is."

"Like your Dad said, he should still be in prison. That guy was convicted on so many counts of child abuse, pornography and molestation he'll never even see parole. I'll check on it and get back to you as soon as I know anything."

"Thanks, Sam."

"I really hope it's not him, Frank. He vowed to get revenge on your father and especially Joe. How can anybody want revenge on a little boy?"

"I know, Sam, but Joe's not a little boy anymore. And if this guy decided to get revenge by going after Vanessa then he knew exactly what he was doing. Which means he knows Joe a whole lot better than any of us would like. He knows just what it would take to push Joe over the edge."

"How's Joe doing, by the way? I haven't spoken to your Dad at all this morning."

"Not too good," Frank replied.

"And how are you doing, Frank?" Sam asked, picking up on something in the tone of his voice.

"I've been better," he replied, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

Before he could stop himself, everything came pouring out. He told Sam how he had been so relieved it wasn't Callie that had been raped and the all consuming guilt that had followed; how upset and distraught Joe had been that morning and how Frank could barely stand to watch him; about the misunderstanding when Joe had overheard Frank's conversation with his father and finally how relieved he'd been to leave the hospital and not have to watch his brother try and deal with his grief and pain.

"Sam, I feel horrible. I would never, _ever_ wish something like that on Vanessa. At the same time I am so glad for an excuse - any excuse - just so I don't have to stand by and watch Joe try and deal with everything, knowing there is nothing I can do to help him. I've always been able to make everything all right for him - always! I've never seen him like this before. It scares me, Sam."

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Frank jumped. He had completely forgotten he was sitting in Phil's living room. He smiled sadly at the look of sympathy in his friend's eyes and was grateful when Phil squeezed his shoulder in a gesture of support.

"No one can make this better, Frank," Sam replied. "Even after we catch this guy - and we will catch him - it's not going to change what he did to Vanessa. You're putting way too much pressure on yourself to be the perfect big brother. You're human, Frank. You're going to make mistakes and you are not always going to be able to fix everything for Joe. As far as your not wanting to see him so upset…I think that just means you're normal."

"Thanks, Sam."

"The best thing we can do for Joe and Vanessa is to find this guy and put him away for a very long time. I have a few contacts at the prison so I should have an answer for you within the hour. Should I call you on your cell?"

"Please. And Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. For everything."

"Anytime, Frank," Sam replied. He'd always had a special fondness for Frank. Right after Joe was born, Sam and his wife would often keep Frank overnight whenever Fenton was out of town so Laura wouldn't have to take care of both a toddler and a newborn. It had gotten to where Sam looked forward to those overnight visits and he and Frank had formed a special bond. He often felt as protective of Frank as Frank did of Joe.

After hanging up, Frank looked at Phil, slightly embarrassed.

"I guess that was a little more information than you needed, huh?" he said half-jokingly.

Phil looked at him seriously.

"Frank, you know how we all feel about you and Joe. You guys never hesitate to call us when you need help on a case. Let us help you now. If all this stuff with Joe is more than you can handle, we can pick up the slack for you. You concentrate on catching this guy; the rest of us will be there for Joe - and Vanessa."

"Thanks, Phil. I was about to say Joe would know something was wrong if I suddenly disappeared from his life, but I guess I took care of that this morning. By now he's probably gotten himself worked up to the point where he hates me."

"Joe could never hate you. He idolizes you. You're his biggest role model."

Frank looked at Phil as if he had suddenly grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

Laughing, Phil continued. "I guess Joe never told you the same things he told us."

For the next forty-five minutes, Phil regaled Frank with stories of how, ever since they were all children, Joe would never hesitate to brag about his older brother; how completely devastated Joe had been when Frank was diagnosed with leukemia; how Joe had cried for hours when Frank was officially declared to be in remission; and how Joe used to tell anyone who would listen that, when he grew up, he wanted to be_ 'just like Frank'_.

By the time his cell phone rang almost an hour later, Frank had actually laughed more than once and was starting to feel a little better.

"Hello?"

"Frank." It was Sam's voice. "I don't know if this is good or bad. Josh Tilghman is dead."


	16. Chapter 16

TraSan: LOL! I've thought the same thing sometimes. And a few times after I've been reading HB fanfic and then switch to SN, I wonder what Sam Radley is doing there! :p

Lina & Alicia: In the original text HB series, it said Frank was held back a year in school due to 'illness'. They never specified exactly what the illness was, but a few fanfics have speculated that it was leukemia so I went with that, too.

Cheryl: Thanks, buddy!! :D

Thanks to everyone who is reading! :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 16**

_'Dead?' _Frank's heart sank. "How did he die?"

"He died in prison about six years ago. He had liver cancer but by the time it was diagnosed there was nothing they could do."

"Thanks, Sam." He hung up.

Frank had been so sure he was on the right track with this. Tilghman escaped, wanted revenge on Joe and so went after Vanessa. Once they confirmed that, it would be a simple matter of getting his picture out to the public in every newspaper and on every television station across the country. He'd be caught in a matter of days - case closed. Now they were back to square one.

"Bad news?" Phil asked seeing the look on his friends face.

"Tilghman is dead. It couldn't have been him," Frank replied as he was dialing his father.

"Dad," Frank began when his father answered. "Tilghman is dead. He died in prison six years ago, from cancer."

His father sighed but said nothing.

"I was so sure this stupid card would lead us to the rapist," Frank continued, disappointed and frustrated. "I know it's crazy but I still have a strong feeling that this card is the key to everything."

"You're starting to sound like your brother."

"Yeah, I know. But he and his gut instincts are right more times than I care to admit."

"Well, son, a lot of cases have been solved by instinct rather than fact. If you feel that strongly about it, keep working on it. Maybe Phil can give you a fresh perspective."

"Ok, Dad. Thanks. Call me later and let me know how Joe and Vanessa are doing."

"I will. Goodbye."

"Bye, Dad."

oooOOOooo

Fenton Hardy leaned back in the chair in the waiting area and rubbed his eyes. Frank's news hadn't been good but at least it was keeping him busy. Something Fenton wished he could do at the moment… keep busy. He was never very good at waiting, especially in hospitals. Laughing softly to himself, he was amazed that after all these years no one had figured out that Joe had inherited his inability to sit still for more than five minutes directly from his father. While Fenton was infinitely more patient than his youngest son, he would gladly take the "action" part of investigative work over the cerebral any day.

More than anything he'd like to be out on the streets right now, following up on leads, however slim, to catch the man who had raped Vanessa. But at this moment his role as a father was much more important than his role as an investigator. He was confident that Frank could handle anything that came up in the investigation. That confidence in his oldest son gave him the freedom to be nothing more than a supportive father for as long as Joe needed him.

"Dad?"

Fenton's eyes snapped open at the sound of Joe's voice. Looking at his son, he was still having a hard time believing this was the same wisecracking, carefree young man who always appeared as though he had not a care in the world other than having a good time. Joe's world had been completely turned upside down and it was obvious he had no idea how to adjust and deal with it. Fenton could tell whether Vanessa was asleep or awake simply by watching Joe wander aimlessly in and out of her room. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Had he, Laura and Frank been so overprotective of Joe all his life that they left him completely unprepared for something like this?

He patted the chair next to him and Joe quickly took a seat. Fenton laid his arm across the back of the chair and it did not escape him that Joe immediately leaned back against his fathers arm and closed his eyes. Joe had long ago stopped asking his father for a hug when he was down. He felt he'd gotten much too old to be running to Daddy for comfort even though there were times he wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up in his father's protective embrace. Knowing instinctively, as a father would, that this was exactly what Joe wanted right now, he let his arm casually fall across Joe's shoulders and almost imperceptibly pulled his youngest son closer. Joe never opened his eyes and didn't say a word, but readjusted himself so he could easily rest his head on his father's shoulder. They sat together, quietly, for a very long time.

"Did Frank go home?" Joe finally asked.

"He went to the office," Fenton replied simply.

Joe had not yet consciously remembered anything from the time he had been abducted. If he told Joe about Frank's conversation with Phil and his discovery of the card's origin, he would have to come up with some explanation for Josh Tilghman and why they had zeroed in on him as a suspect. He was afraid any mention of Tilghman, however vague, would open up the floodgates and bring an onslaught of painful memories for Joe. In his current emotional state, Fenton was sure that would push him over the edge.

"Do you think he'd talk to me if I called him? I mean after what I said this morning?"

"I'm sure he would," Fenton said, giving Joe's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

It was painfully obvious to Fenton that Joe was lost without his older brother to turn to. He was very proud of the man Joe had become but there were still instances where he became overwhelmed at the curves life would throw at him. At those times he still depended on his big brother to pick up the pieces for him.

This, in turn, renewed his concern for Frank. Frank was always level headed and able to handle any situation with ease. Fenton had been taken aback by Frank's reaction to what had happened. He had never seen Frank quite so rattled. Frank's reaction to Vanessa being raped, relief that it had not been Callie and his increasing concern for Callie's safety were all weighing heavily on Fenton's mind.

What worried him the most however, was Frank's clear distress at watching his younger brother try and deal with the overwhelming emotional pain. They had all grown used to Joe's quick mood changes, but his behavior had become so erratic and extreme so quickly that it had left Frank wanting to run. Was he asking too much of Frank by expecting him to guide Joe through this crisis? Was seeing Joe so devastated more than Frank could handle?

Hearing light footsteps Fenton opened his eyes and saw his wife walking towards them.

"Is he asleep?" Laura whispered.

"No, I'm awake," Joe replied, opening his eyes and sitting up.

"Good. I thought you might want to take your Mom to the cafeteria for dinner," she smiled.

"I'm not really hungry, Mom. And I don't want to leave Vanessa. Why don't you and Dad go."

Sitting next to Joe, Laura took his hand in hers. "You didn't have any breakfast and barely touched the sandwich I brought you for lunch." She gently took his chin in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "I know how upset you are, sweetie, but you have to eat. Vanessa is going to be depending on you. You're going to have to be strong for her and you can't do that if you are sick or exhausted. I just left her and Andrea. She's still sleeping and probably will be for a while. I told Andrea I'd bring her something to eat so I have to go to the cafeteria anyway. Please come with me, honey."

"Go down and get something to eat with your mother, Joe. If Vanessa wakes up I'll come right down and get you, okay?" Fenton urged him.

"Okay," he agreed standing up. "But promise me, Dad, you'll come get me the second she wakes up."

"I promise. Now go."

Shortly after Joe and Laura left, Ezra Collig and Con Riley came walking in. Fenton stood up to greet them, tired of sitting for so long.

"Anything new?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Con answered then looked to Collig.

"Fenton," Ezra began, appearing slightly uncomfortable. "I think it would be best if Joe were taken off this case. It's become much too personal for him. At the best of times it doesn't take much to set him off. It's not fair to ask him to try and remain professional while searching for the man who raped his fiancée."

Fenton sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He'd been expecting this but had hoped to put it off as long as possible. "Ezra, I agree with you one hundred percent. Believe me I would like nothing better than to get him off this case immediately. But what do you think he's going to do if I tell him he's been removed from the investigation?"

"I know he won't be happy about it. I thought if you and Frank explained it to him he might understand." Seeing how distressed his friend was Collig offered himself up as the 'bad guy'. "If worse comes to worst I can order him off the investigation. Vanessa was raped here in Bayport. That's under my jurisdiction and we did not ask for outside help."

"You'd have to order Frank and me off the case, too," Fenton reminded him. Sitting down again he shook his head. "Do you remember Josh Tilghman?" he asked suddenly.

Ezra Collig felt his stomach tighten. He remembered Josh Tilghman very well; in fact he would never forget the man. He had only known the Hardys a few years when Joe had been taken by Tilghman's organization. He had worked side by side with Fenton and Sam until Joe had been found.

"How could I forget," Collig replied simply. He shook his head slightly at Con, who understood the message that everything would be explained to him later.

"Frank found out that the card Joe found at the train station was a membership card for Mensa. I asked him to have Sam check on Tilghman. He died in prison six years ago. When Frank first called to tell me about the card I got my hopes up. Everything fit; it made perfect sense. I still can't believe Tilghman was so adamant about getting revenge on Joe." He sighed and looked up at the two men. "But it was a dead end."

"You know, if I remember correctly, Tilghman had a son. About Frank's age I think. It might be worth checking on him. A long shot, but you never know. He may have decided to pick up his father's grudge against Joe after he died."

Fenton perked up considerably at the prospect of a new lead. But first he had to settle the matter of Joe continuing to assist in the investigation.

"Ezra, I understand completely why you think Joe should be taken off the case. But even if we are successful in doing that what do you think he'll do?"

"Track down the S.O.B. himself," Con replied first. "And God help that man if Joe gets to him before anyone else does."

"Exactly," Fenton replied looking Collig in the eye. "It will be better if he stays on the case. At least that way we'll know what he's doing and we can keep an eye on him."

"Okay," Collig agreed reluctantly. "But make sure either you or Frank knows where he is and what he's doing at all times."

Fenton nodded. "I'll call Frank and have him start checking on Tilghman's son."

"Give Joe and Vanessa our best," Con said over his shoulder as he and Chief Collig left the waiting area.

It was less than a minute before Fenton was talking to Frank.

"Tilghman had at least one child. A son about your age. It's a real long shot but get together with Sam and see what you can find out about him and if he had any other kids. It wouldn't be the first time a child tried to get revenge in the name of a parent."

oooOOOooo

Excited once again at having something to follow up on, Frank was soon speaking with Sam about getting the information they needed. As he was finishing up his conversation he noticed Phil shifting excitedly from one foot to the other.

"What?" he smiled hanging up the phone.

"I was thinking while you and Sam are working on that, maybe I can do some research and see if the "Clay" on the back of that card means anything." Afraid Frank was going to tell him it wouldn't be necessary, he did his best imitation of Joe's infamous puppy dog look. "Please Frank. I really want to help you catch this guy. Let me do it - for Joe."

Frank laughed out loud at his friend. "Phil, you really need to work on that look…Joe does it much better than you! Seriously, though, I'll take all the help I can get. And I know Joe will really appreciate it. I have to go see Sam. I'll check in with you tomorrow and see what you've got."

Saying goodbye to Phil, he walked out to his car and headed for Sam's house.

_'Don't worry, little brother,'_ he thought. _'We'll get the guy who did this to Vanessa. I promise.'_


	17. Chapter 17

Pally: I didn't actually write the story of Joe's kidnapping when he was a child. It gets alluded to enough throughout this story – and subsequent stories – that I didn't think it was necessary to go back and actually write it. Sorry! :(

TraSan: Glad you picked up on that – we can see what Joe gives to those around him simply by virtue of the fact that it is sorely missing right now. And despite all the things I do to the Hardys in my stories, I do always keep them a close, supportive, loving family. :)

Thanks to everyone who continues to read. :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 17**

Standing in the small bathroom of her hospital room, Vanessa slowly changed into the clothes her mother had brought. As she buttoned her shirt with shaking hands, she looked at the ugly bruises that had developed on her wrists. Her vision blurred as the tears filled her eyes. Leaning against the sink she began to cry quietly, not wanting to alarm Joe who was right outside the door. She was still having a difficult time accepting that this nightmare had happened to her. Dr. Jackson had wanted to keep her in the hospital one more night for observation, worried about the effects of the concussion she had sustained during the assault. She, on the other hand, desperately wanted to go home. The ease with which anyone and everyone could walk in and out of her room had left her terrified. She was in constant fear the man would return and she would be assaulted again. She adamantly insisted that Joe or her mother remain with her at all times.

Only Joe seemed to grasp her need to be in the safety of her own home. She had begged him to take her home yesterday, becoming so distraught at one point she threatened to sign herself out and take a taxi home. Joe had finally gotten her to calm down and agree to stay by promising her he would take her home the following day, no matter what. Convincing Andrea and Dr. Jackson had not been easy, but Joe was relentless and finally wore them down, much to Vanessa's relief.

Now, however, the thought of going home brought on a new wave of anxiety. Her constantly changing emotions had left her feeling as if she were on a roller coaster. She wanted Joe in the same room with her, always within sight, but not too close. When she had first awakened she wanted him to hold her close and never let go. As the day wore on she found she did not want to be touched - by Joe or anyone else. Every time she awoke and felt someone holding her hand she flashed back to the brutal assault and felt as if it were happening all over again.

As much as she wanted to go home, she was also afraid. She and Joe had always been overly affectionate with each other, particularly when they were home alone. She didn't want to hurt him by asking him to keep his distance and not touch her unless she requested it. But she could not continue to relive the rape every time someone got too close to her or she would surely go crazy.

A soft knock on the door caused her to jump.

"You okay, Babe?" Joe asked with concern.

"Yes, fine," she replied trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I'll be right out."

After brushing her hair back into a ponytail and splashing cold water on her face, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The person looking back at her was a complete stranger. There was nothing but fear and terror in her eyes. Reaching up to brush a lock of hair off her face she stopped and stared at her shaking hand. It suddenly occurred to her that whenever she was awake she could not stop trembling. She looked around the tiny room frantically, feeling the walls closing in.

_'I have to get out of here!'_ she thought in a panic.

Pulling the door open, she fled the bathroom and ran straight into Joe. Wrapping her arms around him as tightly as possible, she couldn't help but cry.

"I'm so scared, Joe! What if he comes back? What if he…tries to…" she choked out, unable to finish.

Holding her as tightly as possible, Joe reassured her as best he could while trying desperately to control his raging temper.

"It's okay, Baby. I'm right here. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," he said gently, stroking her hair.

She began to calm down somewhat, finding comfort in his arms holding her so close to him. That comfort, however, didn't last long. Vanessa started to panic, now feeling only someone crushing her, refusing to let her go. In desperation, she tried to push Joe away.

"Let go," she said tearfully. "_Please_ let me go!"

Almost instantly he released her and backed away. Unable to believe how quickly her emotions had changed, she turned her back not wanting Joe to see how utterly distressed she was.

_'I don't even feel safe with him anymore. God, I can't live like this. I'll lose my mind!'_

Joe, too, was confused by Vanessa's constantly shifting emotions. While she had slept the previous day, he had spoken at length with someone from the Rape Crisis Counseling Center. The counselor had told him to expect these sudden, erratic mood changes. He thought he had prepared himself but now realized he was completely lost. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Vanessa any further, but now he was wondering how they were going to cope once they were home alone.

oooOOOooo

Frank Hardy unlocked the back door of his house and walked into the kitchen. He smiled at Callie who was holding a cup of coffee and talking on the phone.

"Okay. Yes, I'll tell him. See you later. Bye."

As soon as she hung up, Frank greeted her with a kiss. "Morning."

"Good morning yourself. How was your run?"

"Good. I'm going to grab a shower and head over to Phil's, see if he has anything on that card. Sam and I aren't meeting with the warden at the prison until this afternoon. We could have breakfast before I go. Unless you've already eaten."

"No. I haven't eaten yet," she replied. Frank stopped and looked at her, noting the uneasiness in her voice.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked, assuming the phone call had something to do with it. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table opening up the newspaper.

"Your Mom. Vanessa is being released today."

"What? Isn't that kind of soon? She had a pretty bad concussion," he said, surprised.

"Well, yes, it is. Apparently it was her idea. The doctor would prefer she stay at least one more night, but Joe said she's terrified being there. Anyone at all can walk in and out of her room. She just wants to go home. From what I understand, Joe told them he was taking her home today whether they liked it or not so they might as well agree to it."

Frank stared into his coffee mug. Regardless of what had happened the previous morning, he knew his father would expect him to be there for Joe today. While he was running, he had convinced himself yesterday was just a fluke; he was just having a bad day as an older brother. He would have no problem guiding his younger brother through this crisis as he had done so many times before. However he hadn't expected Vanessa to be released so soon. He thought he would have one more day to work through his feelings. He felt the panic start again, realizing he was unprepared to watch his brother go through anymore emotional torment.

Callie sat across from him taking his hand. "What can I do, Frank?"

"Can you turn back time?" he asked sadly, running a hand through his hair.

Callie squeezed his hand and sat back. After so many years, she knew all his little quirks and what they meant. A hand through the hair was a sure sign he was frustrated and needed someone to listen while he worked through his thoughts and emotions.

"I had myself convinced that yesterday was just a fluke; that I could get Joe through this just like I've always done before. But this is so over my head, Cal. And it breaks my heart to see him like this. I can't tell him to give it time and everything will be fine." Frank thought of his conversation with Sam. "Even if - _when_ - we catch this guy, it won't change what he did to Vanessa. That's something they have to live with for the rest of their lives. I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to be right there next to him for as long as it takes; the other part just wants to run away."

Frank looked down at the table for a few moments. When he looked up again, there was confusion written all over his face. "I can't stand seeing him like that. After Iola died it took almost four years before he really recovered and was the brother I remembered from before the explosion. What if he can't recover from this? If Vanessa isn't able to find some way to come to terms with this, Joe will never get over it. Never."

"Joe has always been able to bounce back from every problem he's ever faced, no matter how bad," Callie told him. "He'll bounce back from this too, you'll see. Just do the best you can, honey. That's all anyone can ask of you. And that's all you should ask of yourself."

Frank leaned over and kissed her. It still amazed him sometimes that she always knew exactly what to say to calm his fears

Looking at the clock on the wall he said, "I'll grab a quick shower and then we can get some breakfast before I meet Phil. We can go see Joe and Vanessa afterwards."

"Are you going to tell Joe about everything?"

"The card, yes. The prison, no. I talked to Dad about it last night. If we tell Joe that Sam and I are going to talk to the warden we'll have to give him some kind of reason. With the way things just keep going from bad to worse I don't want to say or do anything that might cause him to start remembering. Besides, I think he's so worried about Vanessa he won't be leaving her side for several days so I don't have to come up with any explanations as to where I'm going and why he can't come."

oooOOOooo

Climbing the stairs to their apartment, Joe felt some mild relief. The ride home from the hospital was made in silence and seemed to take forever. Vanessa had clung tightly to his hand the second they stepped out of the car. Approaching the door Joe reached out to unlock it and froze. He didn't remember much from the night his father told him Vanessa had been raped. He'd gone into a blind rage and didn't recall exactly what he had said or done but he did know he had left a path of destruction through the living room.

"Joe, please, open the door." Vanessa's voice was pleading.

Hoping he'd be struck with an inspired half-truth to explain the mess that would greet them, he slowly opened the door. Vanessa rushed in and quickly walked down the hall to the bedroom. Joe stood in the doorway, stunned. The apartment was spotless. No broken glass or shattered remnants of coffee mugs; no newspapers or magazines littering the room.

Closing the door, he slowly walked through the living room into the kitchen. As he passed by the coffee table he saw the glass top had been replaced and all evidence of his violent outburst had disappeared. Whoever the Good Samaritan was had even done the dishes.

"Joe."

"Yeah, Babe?" He turned and smiled at Vanessa, wincing inwardly when she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I want to take a shower," she said, softly. "Would you come sit in the bedroom?"

His heart tightened but he kept the smile on his face. "Sure."

"Thank you." She turned and walked down the hall. Joe followed shaking his head, wondering if their lives would ever be close to normal again.

oooOOOooo

Frank arrived at Phil's shortly after having breakfast with Callie. He sat next to Phil as Phil pulled up the program he wanted on the computer.

"It took a while but I wrote a program to search the Mensa chapters and membership files for anything with the letter 'clay'. I know it's going to give us a lot of useless information, but since we don't know exactly what it is we're looking for, I thought this would be the best first step," Phil explained.

"So we can look over all the information and focus in on something."

"Right. A city or state; a specific chapter of Mensa or even a person's name. We can continue to narrow the searches as we go. Maybe something will pop out at you."

Almost two hours later Frank realized Phil had not been exaggerating about the amount of useless information they had to look at. They had reviewed pages and pages of information, slowly narrowing their search, first in one direction, then another.

Frank had decided to focus on two areas - locations and member names. While Frank methodically read the lists of names looking for anything remotely familiar, Phil worked on locations looking for cities or towns that had chapters somewhat close to Bayport. Frank was beginning to get discouraged, thinking they were looking for a needle in a haystack, when Phil let out a shout.

"Bingo! Frank, look at this!" Phil said excitedly, thrusting a print out under Franks nose.

"Clayton Beach?" Frank read the name Phil was pointing to, looking puzzled.

"That's it! That has to be it!" Turning back to the computer, Phil quickly pulled up a map of Bayport and it's surrounding areas for a 150 mile radius.

"Look," he continued, pointing out Bayport on the map. Slowly he moved south on the map, zooming in on specific towns during his computerized journey. "There's Kirkland. A little further south is Southport. Keep going south and you hit Angel Beach. And south of Angel Beach…" he used the mouse to zoom in one final time, "Clayton Beach!" he said triumphantly.

Studying the computer screen, Frank's face lit up.

"Uh-oh, I recognize that look," Phil grinned. "So are you going to share your hypothesis or are you going to torture me like you do Joe?"

"For your information, I only do that when Joe doesn't feel like thinking things through."

"Uh-huh. Or when you just feel like torturing him." Phil laughed as Frank reddened slightly. "So what was it that made you light up like a Christmas tree?"

"Clayton Beach is south of Angel Beach," Frank pointed at the screen. "Exactly how far south?" he asked, already knowing what Phil's answer would be.

Phil clicked the mouse a few times. "Twenty-five miles," he replied.

"Phil, you're a genius." Looking at his watch Frank got to his feet and gathered up the papers he needed. "I have to go. I'm meeting Callie at Joe and Vanessa's."

"Did Vanessa change her mind?" Phil asked hopefully. "About visitors, I mean."

"No. I'm not sure she'll see us, but Joe is going through hell. We're going as much to see him as Vanessa."

"Have you talked to Joe since you were here yesterday?"

"No," Frank smiled nervously. "Wish me luck."

oooOOOooo

When Vanessa wasn't sleeping, she had spent most of the morning wandering between the bedroom and the living room, where Joe sat watching television. Morning slowly dragged into early afternoon with Joe confused as to what to say or do around Vanessa. The conflicting emotions of wanting to be left alone but needing to know Joe was close by caused Vanessa's already high anxiety level to increase even more. The tension in the air was so thick, Joe was almost afraid to breathe. Vanessa had finally settled on the chair in the living room, attempting to focus on whatever it was Joe was watching, when the sound of the intercom buzzer literally made her jump.

Pretending not to notice, Joe got up and pressed the button on the intercom to see who it was.

"Hi." It was Callie's voice. "It's just us."

Joe turned to look at Vanessa. He knew she wanted to be left alone but he desperately wanted to see Frank. He needed to apologize and make sure everything was okay between them.

"I really don't want to see anyone," Vanessa said. "Can you tell them I'm sleeping? I'll just stay in the bedroom until they leave."

Joe nodded as he pressed the button allowing Frank and Callie to enter the building. He knew they were coming to see the both of them. It broke his heart that his once fun loving, bubbly fiancée was so depressed she couldn't even look him in the eye and didn't want to see her best friend. His thoughts once again turned to the man who had caused it all. _'I will find you. One way or another you __will__ pay for this.'_

"Sure, Babe. A nap is probably a good idea anyway. I promised Dr. Jackson and your Mom that I'd take good care of you and make sure you got plenty of rest," he said trying to make her feel better. She felt guilty enough as it was, however unjustified. She didn't need to add more on top of it by feeling guilty for simply wanting to be left alone.

At the sound of a knock on the door, she turned and quickly headed back down the hall. Opening the door, Joe greeted Frank and Callie.

"Hey," he gave them a tired smile. "Thanks for stopping by."

"How are you doing?" Callie hugged him tightly. Stepping back to look into his eyes, she saw incredible sadness. Nothing like this had ever touched him so personally before and he was having a great deal of trouble adjusting to it.

Joe shrugged. "I've had better days." He gestured to the bags Callie held. "Smells good."

"Chinese. Thought you might be hungry," she said as she headed towards the kitchen leaving the brothers alone.

For the first time in his life, Frank wasn't sure what to say to his younger brother. He could tell Joe was ready to explode from having to hold everything inside. He knew what he should say, but he was afraid Joe would take it as an invitation to begin a detailed account of Vanessa's statement to the police. He knew Joe needed to talk about it and let out some of the anger that had built up, but Frank loved Vanessa like a sister and he did not want to hear every detail of the assault. Looking at his brother and seeing the torment in his eyes, he was immediately ashamed of himself.

'_No matter how uncomfortable it is for me to see Joe like this, it can't even come close to what he's going through.'_

"Frank," Joe began. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I know what you meant. I guess after keeping everything inside all night I needed someone to be angry at. You were an easy target."

"Don't worry about it," Frank reassured him. "I know you didn't mean it. It's already forgotten."

"Are you sure? You never let me off that easy."

"Don't push your luck," Frank joked and was relieved to get a little smile from Joe. "How's Vanessa doing?"

Joe glanced down the hall and quickly looked away brushing at his eyes. "Not too good. You know I thought it would be better once we got home but now I'm not so sure. I don't know what to say to her. I don't know how to act around her. I'm scared to get too close to her, let alone touch her but she won't let me out of her sight for more than a minute or two." He stopped a moment, staring at his hands. Looking back at Frank, he was obviously distressed. "Is she going to be like this forever?"

Frank felt a small knot in the pit of his stomach. He barely recognized this person. He didn't know who it was. All he did know is that he wanted his little brother back. The mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes; the smile that was constantly hovering just below the surface; the constant stream of wise cracks, one-liners and bad jokes. _'What I wouldn't give for one sarcastic comment about my inability to let go and have fun.' _

"I don't know, little brother. I wish I could tell you to give it a little time and everything would be back to normal."

At the look of anguish on Joe's face, Frank cursed himself. _'You idiot! That is not what he needs to hear! You're only making things worse!'_ Quickly he backpedaled trying to diminish the sting of what he had just said, however true it might be.

"But, you know Vanessa is tough. And strong. I'm sure things will start to get better soon. Just continue to be there for her like you are now." Frank said quickly, feeling like a hypocrite_. 'Brilliant, Hardy. Tell him to watch her go through hell for as long as it takes but you can't do the same for him for even five minutes!'_

Frank wanted to reach out to his brother, but he didn't think he could stand seeing him in any more emotional pain than he was right now. He knew if he encouraged Joe to open up and talk to him it would start a downward spiral he didn't think he was prepared for yet. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when Callie came into the room.

"Lunch is served," she said, much to Frank's relief. One thing he did know for sure about his brother, no matter how much Joe needed to talk about everything, he would never do so - at least not in much detail - in front of Callie. Feeling like he got a reprieve, he gently squeezed Joe's shoulder as they walked to the table and sat down to eat.

No one said anything for a few minutes, then Joe remembered he had his own personal mystery to solve.

"So," he said looking at Callie, "should I thank you for cleaning up the wreckage I left behind?"

"No, not me," she said slightly confused as to what he meant. Frank had simply told her Joe hadn't taken the news well and left it at that without giving any details. "Frank?"

"Oh, yeah. It was Biff and Tony," Frank replied looking at Joe. "I called Biff and asked him if he could come over and sort of straighten up. Tony's uncle - you know, the builder? He had a glass top in stock that fit the table perfectly." At Callie's raised eyebrows, Frank knew he was going to be hit with a million questions when they got home.

"Thanks. I'll have to call them," Joe said, then laughed softly. "Man, they must have really been feeling sorry for me. They even washed the dishes!"

For just a second, Frank saw the familiar twinkle in his eyes before it quickly disappeared. He recalled what Joe had said about Vanessa just a few moments earlier and thought sadly _'Will you be like this forever too, bro?'_

"Have you made any progress on the case?" Joe asked, the look in his eyes quickly changing to hatred. Frank got a chill and found he was thankful that Vanessa insisted Joe not leave her side. At least he wouldn't be out on the street looking for this guy. He knew that scenario would only end in tragedy.

"Yes, and you are not going to believe this! I went to see Phil yesterday…"

"Phil?" Joe said, feeling a little jealous.

"Yes. I wanted to show him that card you found. I thought maybe he could track it down on one of his high tech computers."

"We tried for two days and we couldn't find anything," Joe said, a little defensively.

"Believe it or not, he didn't even need the computer. I showed it to him and he knew what it was right away! A membership card for Mensa!"

"What's Mensa?" Joe frowned. He suddenly felt like an outsider in his own investigation.

"It's sort of a social club for people with extremely high I.Q. levels."

"Snobs," Joe snorted.

"That's exactly what Phil said," Frank laughed. Joe did not join in.

"Okay, so it's a membership card for Mensa. How does that fit in?"

"Remember the FBI profiler said the rapist is extremely intelligent and probably has a very high I.Q.?"

Joe simply nodded.

"Well this morning when I went back to Phil's -"

"You asked Phil for help again this morning?"

"Yes. Why?" Frank asked puzzled, not realizing Joe was starting to feel completely left out of the investigation. "He's helped us out on cases before."

"Yeah, I know," Joe mumbled. _'He's helped us out before, but this is the first time I've been replaced by him,'_ he thought sourly.

"Well, it took him a few hours, but thanks to this program he wrote, we were able to narrow down the possibilities of where the card came from. Remember the word "Clay" was on the back of the card?"

Joe nodded silently again.

"We think it came from someone who is a member of the Clayton Beach chapter of Mensa! And you'll never guess where Clayton Beach is."

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Joe replied, no longer trying to hide how hurt he was.

Frank stopped, momentarily confused at the tone of Joe's voice. "It's twenty-five miles south of Angel Beach. Phil and I are going to Clayton Beach tomorrow to see if we can get a look at the membership list for the Mensa chapter there and maybe talk to some of the members. Maybe we can get a lead on who it might be."

"That'll be great. Sounds like you two practically have this case solved." Joe stood up and walked to the sliding glass door, looking out at the kids playing on the basketball court. "I guess it all goes a lot faster when you have a partner who thinks the same way you do."

It had been a very, very long time since Joe had been made to feel he wasn't smart enough to keep up with Frank, but right now that feeling was all consuming. _'Maybe if Phil really was Frank's partner instead of me, they would have found all this out last week. This guy would have been caught before he got anywhere near Bayport. Vanessa wouldn't be going through hell right now.'_ He knew feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help the situation, but at the moment he was completely overwhelmed by that emotion.

"I'm sorry, Joe," Frank said, suddenly catching on. "I thought you'd want me to keep working on the investigation. Phil could never replace you; you know that." He got up from the table and walked over to stand behind his brother.

"Maybe he should," Joe whispered, staring at the basketball courts. As he watched, a man came onto the court grabbing a young girl by the arm. He was obviously trying to lead her off the court but, wanting to stay and play with her friends, she dug in her heels and tried to pull away from him.

"Joe, _you_ are my partner. We're a team. Always have been, always will be." Frank waited for some kind of response from his brother, getting nothing but silence.

"Joe?" he asked, moving to stand beside his brother so he could look at him. "Oh, no."

"What's the matter?" Callie asked, getting up from the table to join Frank. She inhaled sharply when she got close enough to see Joe's face. "Is he…"

"Having a flashback," Frank said.

Joe's eyes were huge and filled with panic as he looked at the man and the young girl. Suddenly he turned to Frank. "You're not going to make me watch again, are you? Please don't make me watch!" he pleaded as tears filled his eyes. "I'll behave from now on, I promise."

Frank reached out to take Joe's arm, hoping to lead him away from the sight.

"No!" Joe yelled backing away, in terror. "Please, please don't make me watch anymore." He sat on the floor in a corner, trembling. "I'll be good. I really will."

Frank took a step forward and reached for Joe again, desperate to get him away from the glass door. Pulling his knees into himself, Joe suddenly began sobbing. Looking at Frank he cowered.

"Okay, I'll watch them. I promise. Just please don't hit me again."

Frank quickly turned towards Callie, almost in tears himself. "I think I'm going to be sick."


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks so much Alicia, Lina, TraSan and Cheryl. It's been a tough week – your reviews make me smile. Thank you! :)

Dr. drew – WOW!! That was some review!! Your kids thinking you're too old for the Hardys made me laugh! LOL! Thank you so, so much for your kind words. You can actually review on the other site now, too, without being a member of the message board. There's an email address at the bottom of each chapter where you can send comments if you want. Just FYI. ;p And no, I've never even thought of sending my stories in to the publishers – I'm thinking they probably wouldn't approve of the direction I've taken the boys in. LOL!

Guilty

Chapter 18

Callie glanced from Frank, who really did look like he was going to be sick, to Joe sitting on the floor begging some unknown assailant not to hit him again. Slowly so as not to alarm Joe, she reached out, taking the edge of the curtain in her hand. Little by little she inched the curtain forward until it covered the sliding glass door, blocking out the battle between the little girl and her father on the basketball court.

"Thank you," Frank said quietly. He took a deep breath to steady his shaky nerves and turned back to Joe. As soon as Callie had closed the curtain, he started to calm down. Frank knelt down on the floor next to his brother.

"Joe?" He reached out and touched Joe very lightly on the arm.

As he had done after each prior flashback, Joe blinked several times, before focusing on Frank. He rubbed his eyes and looked down, realizing he was sitting on the floor.

"Why am I- " he started to say, slightly embarrassed and very confused.

"There it is!" Callie cried out, reaching down near Joe's feet. She smiled at him, holding up a ring. "Frank gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. I don't know what I would do if I lost it. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Joe replied, still not exactly sure what was going on. Pushing himself up he looked down the hall. "I'm going to check on Vanessa. I'll be right back."

Frank waited until Joe had entered the bedroom, then turned to Callie and pulled her into a big hug.

"That was brilliant!" he said, kissing her cheek and then releasing her. "How did you come up with that so quick? I was starting to panic. I had no idea how to explain to him why he was sitting on the floor." Impulsively, he hugged her again.

"I honestly don't know. It just came out," she replied. "Is that what happened the other times, too?"

"Yes, pretty much. But this one…seemed longer. And he was a lot more scared."

Callie shuddered. "Do you think he's going to remember?"

"I'd like to hope he never, ever remembers any of it. But, I think it's inevitable." Frank glanced down the hall and then back to Callie. "I have to tell Dad about this. And I'm supposed to meet Sam in an hour. I hate lying to Joe but there's no way I can tell him where we are going, let alone why."

"I know, but you're doing it to protect him. Just remember that. Tell him you got a call or something and have to go. I'll stay for a while."

"You never cease to amaze me." Frank smiled at her gratefully. "I really owe you for this."

"Yes, you do. And I'll collect when you get home tonight." Looking up she saw Joe coming back. "Still asleep?" she asked.

"Yeah. Dr. Jackson said she'd probably sleep a lot for the next couple of days."

"Uh, Joe. I hate to do this but Dad just called. Jeff and a few of the other investigators working on the case are at the office. He wants me to go over and tell them what we've been able to find out about the card.

"Oh," Joe replied, obviously disappointed. "That's okay. I understand. Andrea's coming by in a little while anyway."

"I can hang out until she gets here," Callie offered. "If you'd like the company."

"Thanks. I would," Joe replied. Turning to Frank he asked, "Will you or Dad call me later and fill me in on the meeting?"

"Of course. And if you need anything, please call us, okay?"

Joe smiled and nodded. Watching as Frank hugged and kissed Callie goodbye, he vaguely wondered if he'd ever be able to hug Vanessa again without having to ask permission first.

oooOOOooo

Fenton Hardy and Sam Radley were seated at the conference table in Fenton's office reviewing the latest information on the case when Frank came in. He took a seat and looked across the table at his father.

"Joe had another flashback," he said quietly.

Fenton looked at him for a moment then stood up and walked to the window. Frank thought he heard Sam swear under his breath.

"How bad?" Fenton finally asked, without turning around.

"The worst so far, I think."

"What did he say?"

Frank was starting to wonder if telling his father every time Joe had a flashback was such a good idea. Whenever he did, Frank noticed that his normally unflappable father could barely keep his anger and contempt concealed. He looked to Sam for guidance, who nodded at him encouragingly.

"First he looked at me and said 'Please don't make me watch again.' When I reached out to him, he ran to a corner and sat on the floor, like he was scared to death of me," Frank answered.

Fenton was still staring out the window with his back to Frank and Sam, hands clasped behind him. Frank watched his father's hands curl into fists. Fenton was an expert at concealing his emotions and feelings. Frank had never seen him show such an outward sign of anger before.

"And?" Fenton prompted him. "You said 'First'. What happened after that?"

"He, uh, he promised to behave. Then he said 'Okay, I'll watch them. Please just don't hit me again.' He got pretty upset – crying – but that's really all he said."

A long silence ensued broken only when Fenton slammed his fist down on the windowsill, causing Frank to jump.

"Damn you, Tilghman!" He turned and stalked back to the table. "Get over to the prison now. Find out everything you can about Tilghman. Ask about his son, ex-wife, family, friends, associates…everything. He was a member of Mensa. The card Joe found was for someone who belonged to Mensa. It was at the scene of one of the rapes. That's more than a coincidence and I don't like it. Tilghman may be dead but I think this whole case revolves around him."

"Okay, Dad." Frank scrambled up from the table, glad to be leaving.

"Come back here as soon as you're done!" Frank heard his father call as he and Sam walked out the door.

Once outside Frank looked at Sam in astonishment. "I'm starting to think Joe got his temper from Dad," he said as they walked to Sam's car.

Getting in Sam pulled away and headed for the prison. "Looks like the secret is out," he chuckled. "Very few people know your father has a temper; he controls it very well. But I've seen it for myself – twice. The first time was the night we caught Tilghman." Sam shuddered slightly at the memory. "Trust me, it's not a pretty sight. He can make Joe look like a pussy cat."

oooOOOooo

'_Please, God, let it end. Please let it end.'_

Vanessa awoke with a start. Her face was wet with tears, her breathing shallow and ragged. Just as she had every time she'd gone to sleep in the last two days, she had dreamt about being raped. Looking around fearfully, she began to recognize the familiar surroundings of her own bedroom. Sitting up, she leaned back against the headboard and drew in a shaky breath. Reaching for Joe's pillow, she picked it up and hugged it to her chest. Everyone kept telling her she needed to rest to give her body time to heal. But every time she slept, she would dream about the rape. When she was awake, it was literally all she could think about. She hugged the pillow a little tighter, wondering how long she could live like this without losing her mind.

Vanessa heard the bedroom door open and saw Joe standing in the doorway. He came and sat on the bed next to her being careful, she noticed, not to sit too close.

"I thought I heard you crying," Joe said, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"No," she said softly, shaking her head.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Vanessa began to feel guilty once again. She had spent most of the day reminding Joe not to get too close to her. Now when all she really wanted was to be held in his arms, she was almost too ashamed to ask.

"I know I've been asking you to keep your distance all day, but right now I could really use a hug."

Joe smiled and opened his arms, waiting for her to come to him. When she did he held her close, but not too tightly.

"Okay, that was pretty easy." Joe took a chance and lightly kissed the top of her head. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Maybe just listen?" she asked, then remembering his reaction when she had given her statement to the two detectives she added, "If you don't mind."

"Hey, I'm a great listener. I don't mind at all."

Vanessa tried to collect her thoughts so they made some kind of sense.

"I'm scared, Joe. Scared he'll come back. When I'm asleep, I dream about him. When I'm awake, it's all I can think about. I'm scared I'm going crazy. How long am I going to be like this? Am I ever going to be normal again? When do I get my life back? When do I get to be _me_ again?"

'_Brilliant, Hardy,'_ Joe thought. _'You couldn't leave well enough alone. You had to try and help. You don't have clue what to tell her!'_

As if she could read his mind, Vanessa continued. "Don't worry. I don't expect any answers. I just need someone to listen."

Joe laughed in spite of himself. "There's the old Vanessa. Not expecting me to have the answers to life's tough questions." He heard a muffled sound, from Vanessa and looked down at her. "Wait… was that a laugh I heard?"

"A very small giggle," she replied with the tiniest of smiles, which disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I feel like I don't know who this person is who is living in my body now. I want everything to be the way it was." She felt her eyes burning again. "When can we just go back to worrying about weddings and honeymoons?"

"I'm sorry I don't have any answers for you, Babe. But I know who might."

"Dr. Jennings," she replied, naming the therapist she had been referred to at the Rape Crisis Counseling Center.

"Mm-hmm."

"Maybe it would be a good idea to go see her. Would you mind making an appointment for me?"

"Sure; I'll call for you. Maybe she can see you tomorrow after your appointment with Dr. Jackson."

"Maybe…but could we just sit here for a little while longer."

"As long as you want, Baby," Joe replied, and finally felt himself relaxing just a little bit, for the first time in two days.

oooOOOooo

As Sam pulled up to the guardhouse in front of the prison, Frank looked out the window and felt a chill. He'd been to many prisons in the past while working on various cases, but he always got the same apprehensive feeling whenever he had to make those visits. After parking the car, they went through several security gates and procedures before being escorted to the warden's office.

Warden Charles Pierce, a man in his fifties with graying hair, was a very imposing figure. Although he had a friendly smile, it was obvious he was used to having his commands obeyed without hesitation or question. Frank also notice the respect he received from the people who worked for him. He took an immediate liking to the man.

"Sam, it's been years." Warden Pierce smiled, shaking Sam's hand vigorously.

Turning to Frank he extended his hand. "You're the spitting image of your father, Frank. I've heard nothing but good things about you and your brother. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please sit down," he said gesturing to the couch as he took a seat in a chair opposite them.

"I understand you have some questions about Josh Tilghman?" He said it as more of a statement than a question.

Briefly, Sam explained the case, what had initially led them to Tilghman as a suspect and Chief Collig's suggestion that they check out any children he may have had.

"Collig seemed to remember him having a son about Frank's age," Sam said. "Do you know if that's true?"

"Yes, he did have a son but they had no contact what so ever after he was sentenced. Tilghman's wife may have been naïve when she married him, but that all changed when you and Fenton brought his operation down. She had no idea what he really did. She thought he operated an import-export business."

Sam snorted. "In a way, I guess he did."

"Can you tell us anything about his son?" Frank asked.

"After Tilghman was arrested and everything came out, his wife went to court to have all his legal rights as a parent removed. She forbid him having any contact with their son."

"That's certainly understandable," Sam commented.

"She remarried a few years later and her second husband adopted their son. She tried everything she could to make sure her son was raised in a good, loving home but he became obsessed with his father. Every once in a while a letter from the kid would get through to Tilghman. He took full advantage of it, of course, and spent several years trying to have his parental rights reinstated so the boy could visit him here in prison."

"Did that ever happen?" Frank asked, wondering why Tilghman's son would want to have any contact with him after he was old enough to fully understand what his father had done.

"No. The kid couldn't wait until his eighteenth birthday when he could legally make his own decisions so he could start seeing his father on a regular basis."

Frank's mind was in high gear now. "So when he turned eighteen, he started visiting his father regularly. His father was more than happy to tell him how Joe being rescued ruined his entire life. The son picked up the grudge against Joe and decided to follow through on it when his father died," Frank said excitedly. Finally, all the pieces fit together!

"No," Warden Pierce replied. "The kid showed up here on his eighteenth birthday demanding to see his father. We had to tell him his father had died early that morning."

"What?" Frank said, deflated.

"His father died on his eighteenth birthday. He never got his reunion."


	19. Chapter 19

TraSan: Glad you enjoyed the Joe/Vanessa scene.

Janet: I'm so happy you stumbled across this story. :) Unfortunately with the necessary M rating, that's the only way most people are finding it. ;)

Cheryl: As always, thank you my friend!! :)

Pally: Glad you continue to enjoy it.

Thanks to everyone who's reading. :)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 19**

Frank Hardy looked at Warden Pierce in disbelief. "He never saw his father?" he asked, still trying to absorb this new information.

"No. And he was absolutely livid about it. Said he would get even if it was the last thing he did."

"Get even?" Frank pounced on the words. "With who?"

"He said he would get even with the person who caused it all, even if it killed him."

_'Joe!'_ Frank thought, exchanging a worried look with Sam.

"Are any of Tilghman's associates serving their sentences here?" Sam asked.

"Only two. Technically, they all should have served out their sentences here, but Fenton and Ezra Collig were afraid if that happened, they could easily put their operation back together and run it from the inside. I think our criminal justice system is one of the best in the world, but it certainly isn't perfect." Pierce looked at Frank. "Your Dad and Chief Collig were instrumental in making sure there were no more than two or three members of the organization serving in any one prison facility. And that took some doing, let me tell you. Tilghman's operation was huge and very well run."

"Do you know if Tilghman's son had any contact with either of the men serving here?" Sam continued.

Warden Pierce leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment. Leaning forward, he pressed the intercom on his phone.

"Yes sir?" a voice replied.

"Is Nathan Wells on duty this afternoon?" Pierce inquired.

"Yes he is, sir."

"Could you ask him to come to my office, please?"

"Yes, sir. Right away."

Looking at Sam and Frank, Pierce explained, "I seem to remember Tilghman's kid did visit one of the men who worked for Tilghman. He came almost every day and then suddenly stopped. Can't remember who it was, but Nathan Wells will know. He's my best guard. Nothing that goes in here gets by him and remembers everything."

"Sir, Officer Wells is here," the voice floated out of the intercom.

"Send him in please."

Seconds later the door opened to reveal Nathan Wells. From his seat, Frank looked up, up, up at the man. He knew his jaw must be on the floor. _'He has to be almost seven feet tall!'_

The dark skinned, dark eyed, muscular giant took in the look on Franks face and let out a loud, infectious laugh.

"I...I…I'm sorry," Frank stammered, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to stare."

"Don't worry. I get it all the time," the guard said extending his hand. "Nathan Wells."

Frank stood up and shook hands with the man. "Frank Hardy," he introduced himself, suddenly feeling quite small despite his own lean, muscular 6'1" frame.

"Fenton Hardy's son?" Wells asked.

Frank nodded and smiled. He and Joe got that question so often that every once in a while Joe would jokingly introduce himself as _"Joe Hardy, Fenton Hardy's son."_

"I guess you get that just as much as I get the open mouthed stare."

"You're probably right," Frank laughed.

Officer Wells turned to Sam and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Don't tell me...Sam Radley?"

Sam stood and shook the man's hand. "You are good. I haven't been around here in many years."

"I never forget a thing that goes on around here."

"Which is exactly why I asked you to come here," Warden Pierce said. "Sam and Frank are here on a case and think we may be able to help them out. Do you remember which inmate it was that Josh Tilghman's kid used to come see after he died?"

"Jesse Baumgarten."

"That was quick," Warden Pierce said, impressed. "You're sure?"

"Positive. After Baumgarten arrived here, it didn't take him long to decide that once he got out he wanted to stay out. He's been on the straight and narrow ever since. He's a trustee now. Never a problem. Really took advantage of everything the system offered to improve himself. He took classes to finish high school; even enrolled in college and has been taking classes towards a degree. He's one of the ones who really want to make good when he gets out of here. I believe he's coming up before the Parole Board soon. He'll probably get out early for good behavior."

"Do you know why Tilghman's kid stopped coming to see him?"

"Yes. Jesse didn't want to see him anymore and asked him to stop coming."

"Do you know why? That seems odd. Most inmates want the company, no matter who it is."

"Jesse said at first the kid just wanted to know about his father, since he hadn't had any contact with him in eleven years. Jesse felt bad for him and gladly met with him almost every day. But as he told the kid more and more about his father, he started asking about the operation and how it had been brought down. Initially he answered all the kid's questions but he said the kid started to obsess on this one person who he felt was totally responsible for his father ending up in prison. Pumped Jesse for all kinds of information. Jesse got really nervous when he started saying he'd get the guy if it killed him, and make him pay for destroying his family." Nathan suddenly turned and looked at Frank, worry evident in his eyes. "By any chance do you have a brother?"

"Yes," Frank swallowed hard.

Nathan's eyes grew wide. "Joe Hardy?" he asked although he already knew the answer.

Frank nodded, unable to find his voice.

"Has he been hurt or threatened recently? Is that what you're working on?"

"No. Well, not directly anyway. His fiancée was raped two days ago. We're trying to find the guy who did it and so far all of our leads have pointed to Tilghman. Obviously it couldn't be him but it was suggested we check out his son."

"Maybe you should talk to Jesse Baumgarten. He said the person Tilghman's son was so obsessed with was a Joe Hardy."

A heavy silence hung in the air, making Frank very uncomfortable. The case that had frustrated him at every turn suddenly was making perfect sense. Josh Tilghman's son was now in Bayport and obsessed with making Joe pay for something he was not responsible for. It was apparent he was making good on his threat of revenge by going after Vanessa. Frank was certain Tilghman's son was the man they were looking for. After hearing what Officer Wells had to say, he felt an urgency to find Tilghman's son as fast as possible. If he really hated Joe as much as it appeared, the assault on Vanessa would be just the beginning of whatever revenge he had planned.

"Can we talk to Mr. Baumgarten? Now?" Frank asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Wait here. I'll see if I can convince him to see you," Warden Pierce said. He stood up and left the office accompanied by Officer Wells.

"Don't panic, Frank," Sam said once the men had left. He had seen the worry and fear in Frank's eyes. "We'll talk to Baumgarten. At the very least we'll finally have a name. And we already know a lot more than we did a few hours ago."

Frank knew Sam was right, but it didn't do much to calm his fears.

"Sam, there's a lunatic out there who is after my brother. A very smart lunatic who obviously knows Joe very well. He wanted to cause Joe as much pain as possible and knew going after Joe directly wouldn't do it. Instead, he went after the one person Joe loves more than anyone in the world. And I'm sure that was just for starters."

"Which means you - and everyone else Joe loves - is now in danger," Sam replied, gravely. "The only person who we can be sure isn't directly in the line of fire is Joe himself."

Frank thought of how much research Tilghman's son must have done on Joe to know exactly how to hurt him the most. He realized Sam was right - he was a target now.

_'Or am I?'_ he thought as his blood ran cold.

"Sam," he said, almost afraid to put his thoughts into spoken words. "This guy knows the best way to hurt Joe is with emotional pain. He knew if he raped Vanessa that would hurt Joe more than anything he could physically do to Joe himself."

"Yes," Sam replied, following Frank's train of thought so far.

"And what would hurt Joe more - to see Dad and me in physical pain or emotional pain?"

"Oh, no." Sam paled as he realized what Frank was implying.

Frank lunged across the desk grabbing the phone. He had to talk to his father immediately. If he were right, Laura and Callie would be the next victims of the serial rapist.


	20. Chapter 20

Polaris'05: Thank you so much for the comments! Yeah, sometimes it sucks following the rules and putting a story where it's supposed to be, knowing most people will only stumble on it by accident. Glad you found it though, and seem to be enjoying it. :)

TraSan: Yup, tension goes up from here on out. ;-)

Alicia: Thanks for reviewing! Hopefully you'll be on your toes for the next five chapters, where this story ends… and the sequel begins. ;-)

Sherlock's Sparrow: Nineteen chapters in one go?? WOW!! Hope you're not cross-eyed because here's chapter 20. :p

**Guilty**

**Chapter 20**

Frank glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sighed inwardly. Three-thirty in the morning and he was wide-awake, his mind reviewing everything he had learned the day before. It seemed as though each new piece of information that brought them closer to solving this case also brought with it a new worry.

After meeting first with Warden Pierce, then Officer Wells and finally Jesse Baumgarten he had begun to understand he was not overreacting in his fear for his younger brother. He and Sam had been up until almost one in the morning briefing Fenton Hardy on everything they had discovered at the prison. Jesse Baumgarten, it turned out, had been a wealth of information and only too happy to share it with Frank and Sam in the hopes of getting a good recommendation for the Parole Board.

They now had a name to work with - Chris Taylor. When Tilghman's wife remarried and had his parental rights revoked, her new husband had adopted Tilghman's son resulting in the new last name. The rest of the information had been chilling for Frank to hear, but at least now he understood what kind of person they were dealing with.

Chris Taylor had been very close to his father prior to his arrest. As he got older, he spent all his free time researching old newspaper articles about his father, gathering as much information as possible. At one point he brought transcripts of the trial to Jesse and asked for clarification and explanation of certain points. Jesse said Chris had zeroed in on Joe as the sole reason Chris' father had been taken from him. The fact that Josh Tilghman died on his son's eighteenth birthday served only to cement the hatred he had for Joe. One day Chris told Jesse he would "get even" with Joe and "make his life a living hell". After that, Jesse had refused to see him again.

Rolling over onto his side, Frank watched Callie sleeping peacefully. Being a firm believer that information was power, he had told Callie everything and asked her to consider leaving town on a mini-vacation until Taylor was caught. He knew his father was going to ask the same of his mother. Even the remote possibility that either of them could be targeted by Taylor and have to go through what Vanessa was living right now terrified him. Callie had refused, as he knew she would, but promised to be extra careful about her surroundings and do her best to avoid situations where she might be totally isolated and alone.

He sighed again as he recalled the conversation with his father. While Fenton had concluded it was possible that Taylor would go after Laura or Callie, it did not mean he and Frank were out of danger. He had agreed with Sam's assessment that the only member of the Hardy family who was not in any physical danger at this point, was Joe himself.

Further worrying Frank was the fact that he could not tell Joe any of this. Their close relationship was already showing signs of strain and he knew the coming days would put it to the test. Even with Joe so caught up in trying to help Vanessa deal with the rape, he was more determined than ever to catch the man who had assaulted her and was insistent that Frank and their father keep him informed of everything. Frank had called Joe the night before as promised but had a hard time with the half-truths and outright lies he had to tell his brother. Until and unless Joe remembered the weekend he had been abducted by Tilghman on his own, Fenton remained insistent he not be told anything that could trigger those horrible memories. This left Frank no option but to leave out huge chunks of information, or flat out lie. As Frank finally fell into an uneasy sleep, the worry and concern he felt for his entire family invaded his dreams.

Less than five hours later he was back at Phil's. As much as he tried to avoid hacking, at times it was a necessary evil and this was one of those times. He knew he was looking for a needle in a haystack and even though he was an expert on the computer, he would never be able to find what he was looking for without someone infinitely more proficient at it than he was. He knew only two people he could turn to for help – Vanessa and Phil and asking Vanessa for help was obviously out of the question.

"Chris Taylor," Frank said, disgustedly. "Why'd he have to have such a common name?"

"Frustration getting to you?" Phil smiled. "You're starting to sound like Joe. Don't worry, if he is living in Clayton Beach I _will_ find him."

Frank watched his friend work the computer, fascinated. Occasionally he'd stop Phil to ask a question about how or why he was doing something, but for the most part he just watched in awe.

'_Now I know how Joe feels when he watches me on the computer!'_ Frank thought wryly.

"Ta-da!" Phil said smugly. "Christopher Taylor. 155 Benson Avenue, Apartment 325. Lucky for us Clayton Beach is a small town. Believe it or not there was only one Christopher Taylor!"

"Phil, I love you!" Frank exclaimed excitedly.

"Uh oh. Don't let Callie hear you say that."

"Come on, let's go. It'll take us over an hour to get to Clayton Beach and we have to stop at the police station first."

"Why?"

"Sam and I really lucked out last night. One of the inmates at the State Prison is an artist. Jesse described Chris Taylor and the inmate drew a sketch of him. We faxed it to Chief Collig and he was going to have someone put it through the enhancement program they have on their system. It'll give us a rough idea of what he might look like now. I figured if we got an address we could take the picture and show it around to the neighbors. If they recognize him, at least we'll know we're on the right track."

"What are we waiting for! Let's go!"

oooOOOooo

Joe sat in the waiting room flipping through the latest issue of Sports Illustrated. He had looked through the entire magazine twice and had absolutely no idea what it said. Glancing down the hall again, as he had been doing every few minutes for the past hour, he sighed and threw the magazine on a table. Waiting was the one thing he did not do well at all. Standing up he paced the small waiting room, looking at his watch, out the window, at the pictures on the wall - anything to keep from looking down the hall yet again. He was waiting for Vanessa who was having her first session with Dr. Leslie Jennings of the Rape Crisis Counseling Center. Staring out at the traffic several floors below, he wondered what Frank was doing. They had spoken briefly the previous night and Joe's gut instinct told him Frank was not giving him all the information he had and was in fact, probably lying to him, although he had no idea why.

'_Between Vanessa not wanting me to leave her side and Frank not wanting me around at all, I'm going to need counseling myself pretty soon,' _he thought dejectedly.

He heard a door open from somewhere down the hall and quickly looked in that direction. Dr. Jennings was approaching him – alone.

"Where's Vanessa? Is she all right?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, Joe, Vanessa is all right. She's just using the rest room. I wanted to speak with you for a moment." She sat down and motioned for Joe to do the same. "It took a lot of courage for Vanessa to come here today. Most women don't want to talk about being assaulted for weeks, sometimes months. The fact that she remembers so vividly and dreams about it is actually a good thing."

"How can her waking up in the middle of the night screaming be a good thing?" Joe scowled.

"It's a sign that she is strong enough to acknowledge that it happened and start to deal with it. I just wanted you to know this first session is always the hardest. She told me how supportive you've been since the rape, even when she hasn't been in the best of moods. If you can continue to do that, it will give her some stability; something she can count on. She feels as though she has completely lost control of her life. If she knows you will be there for her, doing what she asks, she'll sense that she is regaining power over her own fate. It's the best thing you can do for her at this point."

Joe simply nodded, knowing that meant he would not be leaving Vanessa's side for more than an hour or so when Andrea came to see her.

"I'll be honest with you, Joe. Most men don't handle this as well as you seem to be doing. I'm sure with your support and patience, she'll make great strides in her recovery. She'll probably be more upset today than she has been since the rape occurred," Dr. Jennings continued. "But it will get better. Trust me."

"If you say so," Joe said, skeptically. He couldn't imagine Vanessa being more upset than she had been the past two days and was glad Andrea would be waiting for them when they got home. Looking up he saw Vanessa coming down the hall towards them.

He stood up and swallowed hard. She had obviously been crying very hard and it was apparent she was extremely upset. Visibly trembling she hurried to Joe's side and clutched his hand tightly, standing so close to him she was practically standing on top of him.

"So I'll see you tomorrow, Vanessa?" Dr. Jennings smiled at her.

Vanessa nodded silently tightening her grip on Joe's hand.

"Thank you, Dr. Jennings," Joe said as they turned to leave.

As they left the office Joe tried to think of something to calm Vanessa and cursed himself when he came up empty. _'I could really use some advice right about now, big brother,'_ Joe thought, wondering once again why Frank was so obviously avoiding him. The drive home was made in complete silence, except for the occasional sniffle from Vanessa.

When they arrived home, Andrea was waiting for them as promised. She and Vanessa went up to the apartment while Joe sat on the front steps for a few moments. He leaned back on his elbows and tilted his face up towards the afternoon sky. Closing his eyes he felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He tried to clear his mind of all the pain and emotional turmoil of the last few days.

Bayport had been having unusually warm weather for this time of year with temperatures sometimes getting close to seventy. He remembered when he had heard the predictions for the unseasonably warm weather the previous week; it seemed like a lifetime ago. He and Vanessa had made plans to retrieve his motorcycle from his parent's garage where it resided during the winter months and take a ride up the coast. She had been so excited about it. Even though Joe had taught her how to ride herself, she still loved nothing better than to ride on the back while he drove, with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. If he concentrated, he could feel the wind on his face; Vanessa holding on to him, pressed tightly up against his back; hear her laugh with excitement and a little bit of fear when he pushed the speedometer faster than he knew he should.

Joe sighed and opened his eyes. He missed her laugh so much. There were times when he was afraid he would never hear it again. As he had done so many times in the past few days, he thought bitterly about how one random act by a total stranger had such a devastating effect on their lives. _'So help me God I'll find you and when I do…'_

Shaking his head, he slowly got up and walked into the apartment building, collecting the mail on his way. Walking into the apartment, he heard voices coming from the bedroom. Absently he began sorting through the mail, tossing the bills and junk mail aside. A plain white envelope addressed to him, with no return address, caught his eye. Opening it, he removed the piece of paper and unfolded it. As he read the typewritten message, his hands started to shake:

_"Your fiancée was not a random choice. She was my intended target all along. I will destroy your family as you destroyed mine."_

oooOOOooo

Several miles away, Fenton Hardy was opening an envelope almost identical to the one Joe had just opened. Reading the note it contained, he turned pale:

_"Vanessa was just the first. Payback has begun. I will get my revenge."_


	21. Chapter 21

TraSan – I always enjoy reading your insights into each chapter! Thank you!

Lina – I know the feeling. I'm several chapters behind on more than a few of my favorite stories myself! Thanks for finding time to read and review! :-)

Cheryl - Buddy, you always make me smile! :D

Pally – Hope you continue to enjoy it.

Polaris – Yeah, Joe's holding on, for now anyway. ;-)

Alicia – Yep, there's a sequel. Or more accurately the second part to this story. And thank you for that enthusiastic review! It made me grin from ear to ear! :-)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 21**

Andrea Bender walked out to the kitchen and stopped when she saw Joe. He was white as a sheet, staring at a piece of paper he held in his shaking hands. Andrea approached him cautiously.

"Joe, is something wrong?" she asked touching his arm.

Startled, Joe gasped and jumped back, dropping the paper on the floor. As Andrea reached down to pick it up, Joe snatched it out of her reach before she could look at it. Now it was Andrea who was startled.

"Joe, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked again, growing increasingly concerned.

"Nothing," Joe replied, lying and doing it very badly. "How's Van?"

"She's asleep. I'm more worried about you right now. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Andrea, can you stay for a while? I need to go see my father."

Seeing how upset Joe was and knowing he would never open up to her, she readily agreed.

"I think that's a very good idea."

"Thank you," Joe replied, relieved. "I won't be long."

"Take as much time as you need," Andrea said as he rushed towards the door. "Drive carefully!" she called out after him.

oooOOOooo

Arriving at his parent's house five minutes later, Joe realized he must have broken every speed record in existence. Running into the house past his very surprised mother, he burst into his father's office.

"Dad! Look at this!" he cried frantically, shoving the paper at his father. Joe was so upset he was oblivious to the fact that the look on his father's face almost matched his own.

Seeing how agitated his son was, Fenton stood up and came around from behind his desk, putting an arm around Joe's shoulders.

"Calm down, Joe," he said soothingly, looking at the paper Joe was thrusting into his hands.

Reading the message, his heart caught in his throat. _'Taylor! You son of a -'_

"Dad!" Joe cried out again. "He was after Vanessa all along! Who is this guy? Who sent it?!"

"I…I don't know, son," Fenton lied, trying to lead Joe to the couch. Joe was extremely upset and getting worse by the second. Fenton was afraid he would explode into another uncontrollable rage as he had done the night Vanessa was raped.

Pulling away from his father, Joe began quickly pacing the room.

"Why? Why would someone single her out? She never hurt anybody!" Joe said in anguish. "What are they talking about? Was Vanessa raped because of me? Because of something I did? Whose family did I destroy? Dad, what's going on?" He turned and leaned on the desk, head down.

_'No,'_ Fenton prayed, holding his breath. _'Don't look at it.'_

The letter he had just opened was lying in plain sight on his desk. He hoped Joe was too upset to notice it as he had no idea how he would explain it. He slowly exhaled as Joe began to turn around…and then stopped. Reaching out, Joe turned the letter around so he could read it as Fenton's heart stopped. With a murderous look, Joe turned on his father.

"What are you and Frank keeping from me?" he growled, barely able to restrain himself. "Do you know who raped Vanessa?"

Before Fenton could respond, the door to his office burst open once again and Frank came rushing in followed closely by Phil Cohen.

_'Doesn't anybody knock anymore?'_ Fenton thought absently.

"Dad! We found - " Frank pulled up short and stopped when he saw his brother standing there, looking like he was ready to kill someone. "Joe! What are you doing here?"

Joe stared at the two of them momentarily stunned. Frank's excitement at working with Phil and making so much progress on the case the day before came rushing back to Joe full force, as did the feeling of being pushed aside by his brother.

"Well, if it isn't the Dynamic Duo," he said bitterly. "Gee, Frank I _thought_ I still worked here! Unless I've been officially replaced." He glared at Phil.

Frank stood silently looking at his brother, wishing he could tell him everything and erase the unbearable hurt in his eyes.

"I thought you were taking Vanessa to the doctor today. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Joe, no one could replace you. You know that," Fenton said trying to diffuse the potentially explosive situation. "You've had to stay with Vanessa. We all want to find this guy and Phil has been extremely helpful. We should be grateful to him."

"You haven't answered my question," Joe said with controlled anger. He grabbed the mysterious letters he and Fenton had received shoving them at Frank. "Here, Frank, take a look at these. They just came today. Maybe you can explain them. Dad seems to be at loss for words."

Reading the two letters, Frank blanched. Avoiding Joe's eyes completely, he looked at his father, the two of them exchanging a worried look. Apparently sensing things could get very ugly, very fast, Phil cleared his throat.

"I don't think you need me here right now. Call me if you need anything." He looked at Joe who looked right past him. "Please tell Vanessa I said hello," Phil said as he left.

Joe looked at his father and brother with a piercing stare. "Well?" he said expectantly.

"Joe, listen to me," his father began in a soothing voice.

"DON'T talk to me like that! Like I'm some kid who needs to be pacified!" Joe yelled shaking with anger. "I want to know what the two of you have been keeping from me and I want to know now!" The frantic looks being passed between Frank and Fenton were doing nothing but increasing Joe's already agitated state. "NOW!" Joe screamed, knowing he was on the verge of losing all control.

"Joe, you're right. We haven't been completely up front with you about everything. But it's not because we didn't want you to know what was going on. And it certainly isn't because we think Phil can do a better job than you can. It's just that up until this morning all we had were a few leads that didn't make any sense."

"Up until _this morning_?!" Joe yelled, incredulous. "How many leads have you had that you never bothered to tell me about?!" He'd always thought the expression being so mad you couldn't see straight was just a figure of speech until now. He could barely see through his white-hot anger.

"Your brother and I would never keep anything from you if we didn't think it was in your best interest," Fenton tried to soothe him. "You do know that, don't you?"

"No! I don't know that! In fact it seems like I don't know much of anything anymore!" Joe yelled at his father.

"Listen," Frank tried, nervously. "We all know waiting around and doing nothing is not your strong suit. We just thought it would be best if we waited until we had some concrete information to give you. We figured anything else would just drive you crazy."

Joe turned on Frank and slowly walked towards him until he was just inches away from Franks face.

"I'll tell you what's driving me crazy, _big brother_," Joe said. The term of affection he often used to address Frank was now dripping with sarcasm. "The fact that you and your new partner are so busy tracking down leads and hacking into computers you can't be bothered telling me anything."

"Joe, that's not true," Frank pleaded with him. He'd seen that look of hatred in Joe's eyes many times before, but never directed squarely at him.

"Really?" Joe crossed his arms over his chest. "Then start talking. When you came in with Phil you said you found something. What did you find," he challenged.

"We still don't have any solid information," Fenton cut in.

"What-did-you-find," Joe repeated through gritted teeth, ignoring his father.

"Just a name. That's all," Frank said, glancing at his father.

"And?"

"And what? That's it."

"I am not an _idiot_!" Joe finally exploded, grabbing Frank by the shirt. _"What is his name?!"_

"We have a name but we aren't positive he's the rapist," Fenton jumped in trying to separate his sons.

"I want his name!" Joe repeated, refusing to let go of Frank.

"Taylor. Chris Taylor," Fenton answered, still trying to pull Joe off of Frank. "Joe, let him go. Right _now_!"

Joe released Frank with a little shove, causing him to fall back against the desk.

"Joseph!" Fenton looked at him in shock and then at Frank who was obviously taken aback at his brother's aggression.

"What else do you have on him?" Joe's eyes bored straight into Franks, who once again exchanged a look with his father. This only served to infuriate Joe even more. He walked towards Frank getting as close as his father would allow. "I'll ask you one more time." His voice was low and threatening. "What else do you have on him? A phone number? An address? A town? What?"

"Nothing, Joe," Frank lied to him. "Nothing but a name," he said softly.

Feeling defeated Joe walked to the window and looked out, silently. Frank looked at his father and raised his eyebrows as if to say 'Maybe he's satisfied now.' That hope was short lived as the sound of Joe punching the wall caused Frank to jump.

Stalking back to his father and Frank, Joe now looked at them with tears in his eyes. "_Why_ are you lying to me? It was _my_ fiancée who was raped. I can't leave the apartment for more than an hour at a time; it's not like I can go after him myself. Why are you doing this to me?" he pleaded his voice breaking.

"Joe, can't you just trust us on this? We love you and if we are keeping anything from you at all it's only to protect you," Fenton said quietly, his heart breaking at the look of betrayal in his youngest son's eyes.

"So you're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

"The timing isn't right. Please, trust that we know what we're doing."

Joe squared his shoulders and swallowed hard. "Go to hell."

With that he turned his back on them and walked out.

oooOOOooo

The days that followed were tense and frustrating for the Hardys. Joe had stopped calling his father and Frank. If they happened to call him, he gave them monotone, one word answers. Frank, now consumed with guilt, had become obsessed with finding Chris Taylor. In the back of his mind there was also the constant, nagging worry that Callie was in danger of being assaulted too. Whenever they were apart, he called her so often to check in that he was starting to drive her crazy.

He knew his father was feeling the same frustrations – it appeared Chris Taylor had dropped off the face of the earth. There had been no new rapes or attempted rapes fitting his pattern. Neither Joe nor Fenton had received any more threatening letters. Frank had once again enlisted Phil's help to try to find out where the letters had been written, hoping that might lead them to Taylor. However the only place it had led was another frustrating dead end. The paper and typeface were utterly common and could have easily been typed on a computer at any public library. By Thursday afternoon Frank and Fenton felt as though they had run up against a brick wall.

"I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," Frank said running a hand through his hair.

"Essentially, we are," Fenton replied smiling to himself as he watched his oldest son. Frank's looks, temperament and mannerisms were so similar to his own he sometimes felt as if he were looking in a mirror. "He said Vanessa was just the first."

"That means Mom or Callie will be next."

"Or you or I," Fenton reminded him. "Frank, I don't want you getting so fixated on Taylor going after Callie or your mother that you don't look out for yourself. You don't have Joe watching your back right now. Please remember that."

"But it makes more sense that he would go after one of them."

"Not necessarily. Think about it. He wants to cause Joe as much emotional pain as possible. He is starting to accomplish that by what he did to Vanessa. After Vanessa, who is the one person Joe is closest to and loves more than anyone else?"

"Me," Frank sighed. "At least I still hope it's me."

"It's you, Frank. I'm certain of that. The bond you two have is much too strong for someone like Taylor to destroy it. It may be bending somewhat under the strain but it will never break."

"Thanks, Dad," Frank smiled.

"You're welcome. But I'm not saying that just to ease your conscience. You _have_ to be careful, Frank. I understand how angry Joe is right now – with both of us - but after what happened to Vanessa, if anything should happen to you, well…that would kill Joe. He'd never get over it."

There was a knock on the door and Laura popped her head in.

"Remember, dinner is early tonight," she told her husband. "I'm teaching that CPR and First Aid class at the high school."

"I didn't forget," Fenton smiled at his wife.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, honey?" Laura asked Frank.

"Actually, I'd love to. Callie is going to the gym after work and then stopping by to see Joe. So I'd probably be eating alone tonight."

"Good!" Laura exclaimed enthusiastically, and then reddened slightly. "I'm embarrassed to admit I still haven't completely gotten used to not having you and Joe at the dinner table every night."

Frank stood up and hugged his mother. "We're not getting anything accomplished here. Why don't I help you get dinner ready?"

"Just like old times," she beamed at him as the left the office together.

oooOOOooo

As Callie pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, she saw Joe sitting all alone on the basketball court, leaning back against the fence. Getting out of the car she walked over to him.

"Mind if I join you?"

Joe looked up startled, then smiled.

"Hi, Cal. Have a seat." He patted the ground next to him. "So what brings you here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."

Joe smiled at her gratefully. "You're a lousy liar."

"Okay, how about I just wanted to see your handsome face?"

"Try again."

She put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a gentle hug. "How about I just thought you could use a friend?"

Wordlessly, Joe dropped the basketball he was holding and wrapped his arms around Callie, enjoying the fact that someone was willing to be there for him with no hidden agenda. Things between Frank and Joe had gone from bad to worse. Callie had promised herself if Frank could not be there for his brother, she would do her best to fill his shoes.

Moments later Joe sat back.

"Thanks," he said, leaning against the fence. He removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Watching him, she thought, _'He looks so drained and exhausted.' _There were dark circles under his eyes and he seemed almost pale compared to the way he usually looked. What truly broke her heart was the look in his eyes. The permanent smile that always shone there was gone. Depending on whatever conflicting emotion he was focusing on at the moment, she saw pain, hatred, fear, anger, bitterness or rage. She began to fear that, should Joe be the one to catch Vanessa's rapist, he would do something in a blind rage that would alter his life forever.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously. She and Joe had become much friendlier over the years and grown closer still in the past week, but she wasn't sure how much he would open up to her.

"Sure," he replied. "Why is Frank lying to me?"

He saw a look flicker in her eyes. It was a look that he was sure had been in his own eyes many times recently. It was the look that said 'Oops, I shouldn't have said that.' Joe knew Frank and Callie talked about everything; she had to know the reason for all the dishonesty and half-truths. But at the moment he did not want to lose the one family member who came by to see him just because they cared and wanted to help.

"Never mind," he patted her knee. "You don't have to answer that. I have enough people lying to me as it is. I don't need any more."

She glanced at the basketball Joe was absently tossing from hand to hand.

"So you wanna play a little one on one?" she asked.

Joe's eyes grew wide and then he laughed out loud. Callie smiled thinking about how long it had been since she had heard him laugh. Joe pushed himself up and reached out a hand to pull Callie to her feet.

"Okay, woman, you're on. That is if you think you can take me!" he said grinning.

"Ah, now there's the macho, ego-driven Joe Hardy that we all know and love!" she replied following him on to the basketball court.

Over an hour later Callie sank to the ground and leaned against the fence.

"Aw, come on. Don't tell me you're tired! We haven't been playing that long!" Joe teased her, continuing to dribble the ball around and through his legs.

"Tired? No, of course not. Comatose? YES! What are you trying to do – kill me?"

"Wait here. I'll be right back." He shot the ball in her direction and walked to his car.

Callie watched him as he rummaged through the trunk of his beloved Mustang. Her eyes wandered up to the balcony directly above his car where she saw Vanessa standing at the sliding glass door looking at her. Callie smiled and waved at her best friend. Realizing Callie had seen her, Vanessa quickly stepped back out of sight. _'Vanessa, why won't you let me help you?'_

Callie hadn't seen Vanessa since that first day in the hospital. She had been released the following day and refused to see anyone other than her mother. Still, Callie had hoped each day that Vanessa would agree to see her. That never happened but something she never expected did. She ended up spending a lot of time with Joe – watching television, playing cards or just talking, offering him support, advice and encouragement. She watched him struggle with conflicting emotions that seemed to change by the minute. She also began to see a side of him she never knew existed. She had grown so used to his macho, even sexist image that she had no idea he could be so patient and gentle. Vanessa had often told Callie there was a side of Joe no one ever saw but her. Callie always assumed she was just trying to make Joe look better in Callie's eyes. Now she realized how wrong she had been in her assumptions about him.

"Here you go," Joe reappeared, thrusting a water bottle filled with cold water at her.

"My hero," she joked, taking several large gulps and then passing it back to him. "So tell me, did I really beat you that one time or did you let me win?"

"I would never throw a game! You won fair and square," Joe winked at her. Glancing up at the balcony, he saw Vanessa standing by the door once again. "I better get back upstairs," he said standing up.

He walked Callie back to her car and waited as she unlocked the door.

"Callie," he said, quietly.

As she turned to face him, he pulled her into a hug and held her tightly. "Thanks. You have no idea how much this meant to me."

"Anytime, Joe. I'm glad I could help someone." She pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "Remember if you need anything – anything at all – just call."

"I will," he nodded and stepped back so she could get in the car. "Bye." He handed her the water bottle and then watched her drive away. Slowly he turned and made his way back to the apartment.

oooOOOooo

Laura Hardy had just finished teaching the first of the CPR and Advanced First Aid courses and was quickly walking to her car unaware someone was watching her every move. Hidden in the shadows, a man sat low in the driver's seat of his car waiting for just the right moment. As Laura got close to her car, she extended her arm forward using the remote to unlock the door. Fumbling with the keys, she dropped them on the ground. Seeing his chance, the man reached for the handle to open the door.

"Mrs. Hardy!" a voice suddenly called out.

Remaining in his car, the man turned to see a young girl hurrying across the parking lot towards Laura.

"Yes, Shauna?" Laura said, recognizing the girl from class.

The man watched and waited. Unable to hear the conversation taking place, he rolled down the window just a crack.

"Okay, Shauna. I'll see you next week," Laura said. "Are you sure I can't give you a ride home?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Hardy. My Dad will be here any minute."

The man cursed silently as Laura got into her car and drove away. He had learned with Vanessa that the women involved with the Hardys would not be naïve enough to open their car doors or windows to a helpful stranger. Temporarily abandoning his plans for Laura, he eyed the young girl now standing alone on the steps of the school_. 'A little more practice couldn't hurt.'_ Keeping his headlights off, he slowly drove out of the shadows and pulled up to the steps.


	22. Chapter 22

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. You make me smile. :)

A/N: Very special thanks to Sparks and Evergreen for allowing me to "re-create" their marriage proposal scene from their HB fanfic, _Death on the Fourth of July_ (from the HDA Library).

**Guilty**

**Chapter 22**

Joe threw down the pen in frustration and leaned back against the couch, running his hands through his hair. He had just gotten off the phone with his father who had called to update him on another rape that had taken place two nights earlier. He was once again speaking to his father and brother, but just barely. He had grudgingly admitted to himself that if he refused to speak to them he would be shut out of the investigation completely as they were his only source of information, however limited it might be.

He had tried one last time to find out why they were not being honest with him by asking his mother to intervene. She had mumbled something about not getting involved in their work problems and left it at that. Joe immediately knew that she was aware of the reasons for Frank and Fenton's dishonesty but had no intention of telling him.

Feeling an overwhelming sadness, he still could not believe that Frank had been withholding information from him and at times flat out lying to him. He was not completely surprised that his father might do something like that, but Frank was another story. They had never kept anything from each other and never, ever under any circumstances lied to each other. What hurt him the most was not so much that they weren't being truthful with him, but that they wouldn't tell him why. If he had done something wrong to make them act this way, how could he correct it if he didn't even know what it was?

Joe had always wanted his older brother to be proud of him. With the way Frank had been acting towards him he could only assume that this time he had handled himself so badly that Frank was too ashamed to even want to be in the same room with him. He could deal with that, but he didn't know if he would ever get over the fact that his brother had lied to him.

Joe had thought his father, and especially his brother, would have gone out of their way to make sure he knew every detail of the investigation. Especially since he couldn't participate as fully as he wanted to since he had to stay close to Vanessa. This wasn't just any case they were working on. The victim had been Vanessa and the crime had been unspeakable. And now it appeared she had been raped simply because someone was carrying a grudge against Joe. That new information combined with watching Vanessa struggle just to make it through each day without falling apart and now knowing his family no longer trusted him for whatever reason, was causing the strain he was under to be almost more than he could take.

Looking back down at his hastily scribbled notes he got a chill. This time the victim had been a fifteen-year-old freshman student at Bayport High. He tried to block out the fact that his mother had been at the school that night and had in fact spoken with the girl minutes before she was abducted and raped. Based on the mysterious notes he and his father had received, he had a strong suspicion his mother had been the intended victim that night but something had gone wrong. He could tell by the tone in his father's voice when they had spoken that he was thinking the same thing although neither one of them said it out loud.

Picking up the papers in front of him, he began to re-read his notes. The young girl who had been raped was still hospitalized. Ever since she had arrived in the emergency room, she had been catatonic. She stared straight ahead, seemingly in her own little world. She hadn't spoken a word, hadn't acknowledged the doctors, nurses or her worried parents. They had finally ended up putting her on I.V.'s since she would not eat or drink. The doctors could find no physical reason to explain her catatonic state; they had concluded it had to be the psychological trauma of being raped. The only way the young girl could deal with what had happened to her was to completely shut down.

Joe had thought being raped couldn't possibly devastate anyone worse than it had Vanessa. Since coming home from the hospital, she hadn't wanted to see anyone but Joe or her mother. Except for the occasional outburst of anger, she had become quiet and withdrawn and seemed overwhelmed with guilt and shame. She had taken a leave of absence from her job, refusing to leave the safety of their apartment except for her daily sessions with Dr. Jennings. After what his father had just told him about the latest victim, he found he was actually grateful that this was the extent of Vanessa's reaction.

The phone rang interrupting Joe's thoughts. He grabbed it on the first ring and stepped out onto the balcony. He didn't want to wake Vanessa who was asleep in the bedroom. She had had a particularly bad night, waking up several times crying out in terror, which resulted in both of them getting very little sleep. She had finally fallen asleep a few hours earlier from sheer exhaustion.

"Hello?" Joe answered closing the sliding glass door behind him.

"Hey, man. How's it going?" It was Biff's friendly voice.

"Hey, Biff. What's going on?"

"Not much. Just wanted to see how you're holding up, buddy. Is there anything I can do for you? Or Vanessa? Is she up for visitors yet?"

"I don't know. She didn't have a real good night last night," he sighed. "I know it's only been a week but I'm scared, man. I'm scared she's going to be like this forever," his voice broke.

"Hey, come on," Biff tried to comfort his best friend. He knew Joe would do anything for Vanessa. She was the most important thing in the world to him. "You're doing everything you can. No one could be more supportive or understanding than you are. And even if Vanessa isn't up for visitors yet, what about you? I'm here for you, buddy. Ask Andrea to come over and stay with her. We can go for a ride, grab a cup of coffee, shoot some hoops. Whatever you need."

All the Hardys friends were aware of the rift between Joe and his father and brother and that Phil had been working closely with Frank on the investigation. The rest of their friends had rallied around Joe trying to stand in for Frank even though they all knew that, as far as Joe was concerned, no one could replace his brother.

oooOOOooo

In the bedroom, Vanessa was slowly beginning to wake up. With a sharp intake of breath, she bolted upright, looking around frantically. Her heart was pounding and her breathing was hard and labored. Dr. Jennings had told her these incidents – waking up scared and disoriented after dreaming about being raped – were called 'night terrors'. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

'_I will not cry. I will not cry. I will __not__ cry!'_

Vanessa repeated it to herself over and over like a mantra. She thought it might really work this time until one, lonely tear slid down her cheek. Lying back down on the bed, she rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball. At first, this habit drove her crazy. She was almost as tall as Joe and loved nothing better than to stretch out her endlessly long legs. Now, without even realizing it, Vanessa would curl up into a ball whenever she would lie down. Dr. Jennings had also explained this strange, new behavior. Involuntarily, Vanessa was trying to make herself as small as possible. _"A small target."_ Dr. Jennings had said.

'_Great,' _she thought. _'I don't even think of myself as a person anymore; I'm just a target.'_ Another tear escaped down her cheek.

"I will NOT cry!" she said out loud. "I _won't_!"

Her eyes wandered to the framed photograph of her and Joe on the nightstand. Her favorite picture, it always brought a smile to her face just as it did now. It had been taken about a year ago when they went on vacation with Frank and Callie to the island of Antigua. The girls had wanted to lie on the beach and, as Callie had so eloquently put it, _"Sip drinks with little umbrellas in them!"_ The boys wanted to try every water sport the island had to offer.

Being the dare devil that he was, Joe had insisted on trying the bungee jump off a cliff over the water. Frank and Vanessa had tried to talk him out of it, fearing he could be seriously injured. As usual, he got his way and loved every second of it. At the last minute, Vanessa had paid the extra fee to videotape the jump as a surprise for Joe. After they got home, she would jokingly say it was the biggest mistake she ever made. From that point on, everyone who came to their home was forced by Joe to sit and watch the video at least two or three times while he narrated.

Vanessa remembered the look of sheer terror on Laura Hardy's face the first time she saw it. It had taken several minutes for her breathing to return to normal after watching her youngest son voluntarily throw himself off a cliff. She had then jokingly yelled at Frank for standing by and allowing his brother to do such a thing. Vanessa laughed out loud at the memory.

'_I forgot how good it feels to laugh,'_ she thought.

The most amazing thing about that vacation was that Frank and Joe had managed to go the entire week without getting mixed up in some kind of mystery, so she and Callie had had the boys all to themselves with no interruptions. The only low point for her had been the occasional pang of envy when she would catch a glimpse of Callie's engagement ring. She hated herself for feeling that way but she couldn't help it. She and Joe had been together since they were seventeen. They had been living together since they graduated from college. When Frank and Callie got engaged she had begun to wonder if it had been a mistake to move in with Joe. He seemed perfectly content with their relationship the way it was and she wondered if he would ever want to take the next step. Then three months ago he had surprised her with an engagement ring for her birthday…

_Joe had planned a long, romantic weekend in New York City for her birthday. They had stayed at The Plaza hotel, eaten in the best restaurants in the city, even taken in a Broadway play. She knew Joe had spared no expense and really wasn't expecting anything else. Having him all to herself for the weekend with no mystery to solve was all she had really wanted anyway. As far as she was concerned, her birthday was perfect._

_On their final night in the city, they took a carriage ride through Central Park. It had started to snow earlier in the evening and everything was covered with a beautiful blanket of white. Snuggled up against Joe under the blanket, Vanessa remembered the story Laura had told them of the night Fenton Hardy had proposed to her. She closed her eyes and thought of how romantic it must have been when Joe nudged her._

_"Would you like to open your present now?"_

_"My present? I thought this weekend – this trip – __was__ my present! You mean there's more?"_

_Joe produced a small, velvet box with a tiny silver bow. She immediately thought of Laura's description of the box her engagement ring came in. Holding her breath, Vanessa lifted the lid and found herself staring at the most beautiful, unique ring she had ever seen - a large, heart shaped diamond, surrounded by small rubies. The raised gold band had the words 'I LOVE YOU' carved out. Speechless, she looked at Joe._

_"I know it's not Christmas Eve but…Vanessa will you marry me?"_

She still couldn't believe Joe even remembered her reaction to Laura's story that day and was touched that he went to so much trouble to re-create it for her. She smiled as she recalled his laughter when she had asked him, _"But how did you get it to snow on cue?"_

Many times since that day, Joe would wake up in the morning to find Vanessa wide-awake and staring at the ring. He would then tease her mercilessly all day, frequently grabbing her left hand to _"check and make sure it's still there."_

Rolling onto her back, Vanessa stared at the ceiling. Joe had been unbelievably loving and supportive since the rape. She cringed when she thought of the way she had been treating him. One minute she wanted to be wrapped safely in his arms, the next she couldn't stand his touch. She would beg him not to leave their apartment and then couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. She was too ashamed to see anyone other than Joe or her mother. If one of their many friends stopped by to see how she was doing, she would hide in the bedroom until they were gone. When they left, she would yell at Joe for letting them in. She was taking all her anger out on Joe and he didn't deserve it. When they would go to bed at night, after being the target of her frustration all day, Joe would hold her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her, how grateful he was that she was still with him. It would take everything she had not to dissolve into tears.

He took all her erratic mood swings in stride, never losing his temper, never getting angry, simply taking whatever she had to dish out that day. His unwavering devotion and support left her wondering if he didn't deserve someone better. He was the love of her life and she was deathly afraid if she didn't get her behavior under control he would get fed up with being her own personal punching bag and walk out.

Dr. Jennings had told her all this was normal behavior but she didn't care. Joe had treated her like a princess since the day they met. He at least deserved to be treated with respect; something Vanessa had not been capable of since the rape.

'_Today will be different,'_ she promised herself. _'I will not take my anger out on him. I will treat him the way he deserves to be treated – with respect. I will tell him I love him and how thankful I am that he has stood by me.'_

With new resolve, she got up and went into the bathroom. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. There wasn't enough make up in the world to cover the dark circles under her eyes. The frown seemed to be permanently etched on her face. The fearful, haunted look in her eyes scared her the most. Would it ever go away? _'At least my hair is clean,' _she thought bitterly. She had felt so dirty since the rape that she had showered at least twice a day in an effort to feel clean again. She would often want to shower even more but the look in Joe's eyes when she headed for the bathroom was enough to stop her from doing so more often. Now washing her face and brushing her teeth, she wondered if she would ever feel clean again.

Wandering out to the living room, she saw Joe standing on the balcony talking on the phone. _'Typical,'_ she thought with a smile. Vanessa knew he was standing outside in the cold because he didn't want to risk waking her up while he was on the phone. She watched him alternately lean over the balcony railing and then gesture wildly with his hands. She loved the animated way he talked when he was excited about something. No one could tell a story like Joe Hardy. She sat down on the couch not wanting to interrupt him. Watching him talk, she thought she caught a flash of the smile she loved so much.

Leaning forward, she started to straighten the jumble of papers Joe had left on the coffee table when the notation _"#8"_ caught her eye. Looking closer, she realized they were notes about the investigation. Ever since she had been attacked, everyone involved in the case had been working nonstop to find the serial rapist. She inhaled sharply. He'd struck again – someone else had been raped! Reading further she let out a small cry. _'Fifteen_ _years old?! My God, she's just a baby! Two nights ago?'_ She could not believe Joe hadn't told her! She stood up just as Joe opened the sliding glass door and walked into the room.

"Hey, beautiful," he smiled at her.

Forgetting the promise she had made to herself just a few short minutes ago, she threw herself at him, pounding her fists on his chest.

"How could you!" she screamed at him. "How could you keep it from me?"

Looking past her at the coffee table, Joe realized she had found his notes. All the color drained from his face. He hadn't meant to keep it from her on purpose; he just couldn't seem to find the words or the right time to tell her.

"You promised me you'd catch him! You promised!" Vanessa continued hitting Joe, apparently having abandoned all self-control. "How could you let this happen?"

Joe closed his eyes trying to hold Vanessa closer. _'She doesn't mean it. She doesn't blame you. She's just upset,' _he told himself.

"My God, Joe, she's only fifteen! She's just a baby!" Vanessa raged on. Joe felt like his heart was being ripped out. "If you'd caught him like you said you would this never would have happened!"

Vanessa regretted the words the instant they left her lips, but it was too late. She looked into Joe's eyes. He was crushed. She could not have hurt him more if she had stabbed him in the heart.

"I'm…sorry, Joe. Oh, God, I'm so…sorry!"

He nodded mutely but the damage was done. Vanessa knew Joe still carried an enormous amount of guilt over Iola Morton's death. She knew he felt guilty for not picking her up at work the night she was raped. Now she had just accused him of being responsible for the rape of a girl he had never even met.

Vanessa buried her face in her hands and sank to her knees, sobbing. He'd never be able to forgive her for this. She thought of the stranger who had raped her a week earlier_. 'If there is any justice in this world,'_ she thought bitterly, _'by the time this is over you'll be __dead__.'_

She felt Joe put his arms around her and wondered how he could even stand to look at her let alone touch her. Sitting on the floor next to her, he pulled her into his lap. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder, continuing to apologize for her outburst.

"I know it's not your fault. I am _so_ sorry, Joe. Please, forgive me."

While Joe had been stung by what Vanessa said, he was also secretly relieved at her outburst even if it was directed at him. Since coming home from the hospital, she had been so quiet and withdrawn, so despondent; Joe had feared she would never get past this initial stage of recovery.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. You can take it out on me anytime. I love you, Baby. If yelling at me makes you feel better, go for it. I'm here for you no matter what."

Vanessa pulled away just enough to look in his eyes. For the first time since the attack, Joe thought he saw just the hint of a smile.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Vanessa asked, leaning forward and kissing him softly.

Joe held her tightly in a rush of relief. Maybe this was the first step on the way to recovery. They sat quietly for a long time before Vanessa broke the silence.

"I want to see her."

"What? See who?" Joe was confused.

"The girl in the hospital. I want to go see her." Vanessa pulled back once again to face Joe. "Can you arrange it?"

Joe was speechless. This was the last thing in the world he had expected and he wasn't at all sure he liked the idea.

"Honey, I know you want to help but are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"She's not eating, she's not talking, she's just…existing. All because of that…that…bastard!" she spat the last word out. She was angry again, but for the first time she was not angry with herself. "I might be able to get through to her. I know you hate hearing this but I know exactly how she feels. I know what she went through. Please, Joe, let me do this."

The look on his face showed that he was not at all happy with her plan.

"I'd feel like I was doing something to help. Dr. Jennings said the best way to help myself was to help someone else if I could. Maybe I can help her get past what he did to her." She silently added, _'Maybe I can help myself start to get past what he did to me, too.'_

Joe sighed. He knew once Vanessa made up her mind about something, there was no stopping her. It was one of the things he loved about her.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you!" she hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much! You won't be sorry, I promise!


	23. Chapter 23

Thank you Cheryl, Pally and Sherlock's Sparrow for your wonderful comments.

Alicia, I love your enthusiasm! LOL You remind me of me when I'm reviewing a story I love! :p

**Guilty**

**Chapter 23**

As they walked through the parking lot, Vanessa began to think maybe Joe had been right; maybe she should not have come. She felt as if everyone were staring at her, somehow knowing just by looking at her that she had been raped. Staring at the ground, she felt dirty and ashamed. They got on the elevator that would take them to the hospital entrance. She glanced over at Joe who gave her a smile and squeezed her hand encouragingly. He still had his doubts about this visit. He was afraid it would do Vanessa more harm than good but she was insistent on visiting Shauna and he was going to support her one hundred percent.

"Hey, can you hold that?" a voice called out.

Automatically Joe reached forward pressing the "Door Open" button oblivious to the look of panic that had appeared on Vanessa's face. Only when she squeezed his hand so tightly that it began to hurt did he look over at her. Seeing the look of fear in her eyes, Joe mentally kicked himself. She was terrified.

A young man just a few years older than Joe got on the elevator. He was holding a huge vase with what appeared to be several dozen red roses. Joe almost laughed out loud as the flower arrangement threatened to overwhelm the man. An older version of the younger man followed him onto the elevator just as the doors closed. Joe thought the younger of the two seemed so excited he might possibly explode.

"Visiting my wife and brand new son!" he said to Joe excitedly. "Our first! My Dad's first grandchild, too!"

The older man nodded vigorously, smiling even more than his son.

"Congratulations," Joe said while putting an arm around Vanessa. When the two men got on the elevator, she had dropped Joe's hand and tried to scoot behind him as if she needed protection from the two strangers. Joe could feel her whole body shaking. He subtly pulled her very close to him, while keeping himself between her and the two men.

"Thanks!" the younger man called out as the elevator stopped and they hurried off.

Joe took Vanessa's hand and led her to an empty bench by a window.

"I am so sorry, Babe. I didn't think; it was just an automatic reaction."

Vanessa was starting to calm down now that she was no longer in the small elevator with the two strangers. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fault." She took a deep breath and gave Joe a shaky smile. "Okay, let's go."

She started to stand up but Joe held her back. Her reaction to the men in the elevator had him worrying once again about how this would affect her recovery.

"Are you sure about this, Van? You can change your mind you know. Everyone would understand."

"Yes, I am very sure. I want to see her. I _have_ to see her, Joe." She reached out and touched his cheek. "I know you don't understand it. Just trust me on this one, okay?"

He smiled and stood up offering his hand. "Let's go then."

They had to take another elevator to get the floor where Shauna's room was located. Joe breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator went straight to her floor without stopping. Walking towards Shauna's room, Vanessa saw Fenton Hardy, Ezra Collig and Con Riley and a couple who looked to be in their early forties. She assumed they were Shauna's parents. As they approached the group, Vanessa forced what she hoped was a smile to her face.

"Hi, honey," Fenton said smiling warmly at her. "It's good to see you."

"Thanks. It's good to see you too." She forced herself to look him in the eyes and was thankful that there was not a trace of pity in them. She had seen very few people since the attack but almost all of them had looked at her with pity, making her feel even worse if that were possible.

Vanessa held her breath for a moment, hoping he would not try to comfort her with a hug or a pat on the shoulder and was relieved when he didn't. She had always been very openly but now she couldn't stand to be touched by anyone other than Joe and even then only on her "good" days.

"Hello, son," Fenton said quietly looking at Joe.

Joe nodded slightly, acknowledging that his father had spoken to him but did not return the greeting. He was still deeply hurt by the fact that his father had lied to him and for no good reason as far as Joe could see. He hoped Frank wouldn't show up too as he did not want another scene, especially not in front of Vanessa. He hadn't told her about the letters and only mentioned that he had had a disagreement with Frank and his father, which she readily accepted asking for no further explanation.

Vanessa smiled at Ezra Collig and Con Riley who said hello and smiled in return. Again, she noticed no look of pity in their eyes. _'Maybe this won't be so bad after all.'_ Shauna's parents approached her cautiously.

Vanessa took a deep breath and extended her right hand but still held tight to Joe with the other one.

"Hi, I'm Vanessa Bender."

Shauna's mother clasped her hand and held it tightly.

"Thank you so much, Vanessa. I know this has to be difficult for you," she said with tears in her eyes. "You just don't know how much we appreciate this."

"I hope I can help, Mrs. Campbell."

Just then, Dr. Jackson and another man in a white lab coat approached them.

"Vanessa," Dr. Jackson greeted her. "Great to see you. How are you doing?"

She glanced quickly at Joe then back at Dr. Jackson. "Okay, I guess."

"This is Dr. Colin Whitesel, Shauna's physician. Dr. Whitesel, Vanessa Bender and Joe Hardy," he completed the introductions.

"Nice to meet you both," Dr. Whitesel replied, then focused on Vanessa. "I just wanted to talk to you for a minute before you go in." He gestured towards a row of chairs where the three of them sat down.

"I understand that Joe has explained Shauna's condition to you. No one has really been able to get through to her. To be honest I don't know that you will either but it certainly can't hurt to try. Dr. Jackson and I will be right here at the nurse's station if you need anything. Good luck." Dr. Whitesel got up and followed Dr. Jackson down the hall.

Joe took both of Vanessa's hands in his and looked in her eyes. "You're absolutely sure?"

"Absolutely," she said giving him a little smile.

"Okay." Joe escorted her down the hall and stopped in front of Shauna's room. He looked at the handwritten card next to the door and a chill went through him. All the emotions he felt the night he stood outside Vanessa's hospital room came flooding back to him.

"Joe?" Vanessa said, noticing the look on his face. "Joe? What's wrong?" she squeezed his hand.

"Huh?" Joe blinked, looking at her. "Oh, uh, nothing. Everything's fine." He kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. "I'll be right out here if you need me."

Vanessa nodded, took a deep breath and slowly opened the door in front of her. The young girl lying in the hospital bed stared mutely at the ceiling. Her deep brown eyes reflected pain and fear but never moved from the ceiling. It was as if she didn't even know Vanessa was there.

Vanessa's heart broke as she noticed a large, ugly bruise on Shauna's temple, just under her blond bangs. Her eyes wandered down to Shauna's hands. Even though she knew what she would see, she still gasped at the purple bruises on the young girl's wrists.

That was all it took to trigger a flashback. Once again, Vanessa could feel her arms being pulled over her head. She could swear she felt the cold, hard steel on her wrists. The click as the handcuffs locked into place was as loud as a gunshot in her mind.

"Joe!" she whispered. She needed Joe. She needed to feel safe and protected. She wanted to be home, in their apartment, where no one could hurt her. Trembling, she turned to flee the room and got as far as the door before she stopped. With one hand hovering over the doorknob, she remembered the day she and Dr. Jennings had first talked about the flashbacks…

_"They are going to happen, Vanessa. It is a normal reaction. I wish I could tell you there was a way to avoid them but I can't. Sometimes you will know when they are coming, sometimes you won't."_

_It was not what Vanessa had wanted to hear. "You mean I'm going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life?"_

_"No, not forever, but for now, yes. You cannot avoid them, but you can learn how to cope with them better."_

_"How can I do that if I don't even know they are coming?"_

_"Is there anywhere you still feel completely safe?"_

_"Yes,." Vanessa replied, thinking how safe she felt when she was at home with Joe. It was the only time she could relax even a little bit. "At home…when Joe is there with me."_

_"When you start to have a flashback, I want you to go to that place. Sometimes you may be able to physically go there, sometimes you won't. If you cannot physically retreat to your safe place, I want you to go there in your mind. Close your eyes. Concentrate on your breathing. Take slow, deep breaths. Picture it in your mind. See yourself at home with Joe. Let yourself feel safe and protected."_

_Vanessa nodded, not at all sure it would work, especially if Joe were not around._

_"It won't stop the flashbacks, but with a little practice it will make them shorter, less frequent and not quite so frightening."_

Vanessa stopped short of opening the door. She knew Joe was right outside and she could immediately feel safe just being next to him. She also knew if she walked out the door now, she would never come back. Closing her eyes, she did exactly as Dr. Jennings had instructed. To her relief and surprise, the flashback lasted only seconds. Turning around she looked back at Shauna. The fear that had been ignited by the flashback quickly turned to anger. She straightened her shoulders and walked back to Shauna's bedside, resting her hands on the rails of the bed.

"Hi, Shauna. My name is Vanessa," she said softly. "We've never met but I wanted to come see you. We have something in common. I know how you feel, Shauna. I know exactly what you are going through." Vanessa steeled herself for what came next; she had yet to speak the words out loud. "He raped me too."

Shauna blinked once. Then twice. She never took her eyes off the ceiling and did not say a word but she reached out and rested her hand on top of Vanessa's. Encouraged by the small gesture, Vanessa continued.

"I know how much it hurts, honey. Not just physically but in here." Vanessa pointed towards her heart. "When it first happened I felt guilty, dirty and ashamed. Most of the time I still do. Sometimes I feel like I should have been able to do something to prevent it. Mostly though I just feel very, very afraid."

Vanessa felt Shauna's hand tighten around hers. Shauna's eyes welled up with tears and she finally turned to look at Vanessa.

"Why did he hurt me like that? I'm scared. I'm so scared he'll come back and hurt me again." She reached out to Vanessa with both arms.

Vanessa lowered the rails and sat on the bed, taking the young girl in her arms. Everything Shauna had been holding in since the assault came out in a flood of tears. She clung to Vanessa crying uncontrollably, seemingly unable to stop. Vanessa gently rocked her, stroking her hair and patting her back. She remembered the words Joe had spoken to her that first day in the hospital.

"You're safe now, Shauna. You're safe."

oooOOOooo

Outside in the hall, Joe was pacing back and forth like a caged animal, frequently glancing at the closed door of Shauna's hospital room. More than anything, he wanted to know what was going on behind that door. Vanessa seemed sure this visit would help both Shauna and herself. Joe, on the other hand, was not so sure. Admittedly, Vanessa's mood and outlook had improved somewhat since she had made the decision to see Shauna. She had smiled several times in the last two days and even laughed once or twice. Still, Joe was afraid of what would happen once they returned home. The previous night Vanessa had finally slept all the way through until morning for the first time. She did not wake up crying out in terror even once during the night as she had done every night since coming home from the hospital.

…

From where he sat halfway down the hall, Fenton watched his son pace back and forth in front of the closed door. While he was extremely proud of the way Joe had handled himself, he was also deeply saddened and worried by the change in him. He had not seen Joe laugh or smile since Vanessa had been attacked. The seemingly permanent mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes was gone, replaced by anger, hatred and rage. Whenever he was with Vanessa, Joe was quiet, calm and in control. As angry as he was, he never let her see anything but the loving, supportive fiancé she needed. However, when Andrea came to visit her daughter and Joe left their apartment, his bitterness and seething anger were barely concealed beneath the surface.

Even before the fight Joe, Frank and Fenton had a few days earlier, Joe had exploded in anger whenever he visited his parents or came to the office. The depth of his rage and hatred at the man who raped Vanessa, who they now were certain was Chris Taylor, had left Fenton fearing for Joe's future. He had lain awake many nights, worrying about what would happen if Joe found Taylor before anyone else did. For the first time in his life, Fenton was afraid Joe had been pushed too far; he was afraid his youngest son might just be capable of murder.

Leaning back in the chair, Fenton closed his eyes. Thinking about how quickly his sons' close relationship had deteriorated, and how Taylor unknowingly had driven a wedge between him and Joe, Fenton wasn't too sure how he would react if he were given five minutes alone in a room with Chris Taylor.


	24. Chapter 24

Alicia: I almost DIED laughing at your comment about the guy in the elevator!! :D Thank you for the sheer volume of enthusiasm in your comments! :-)

TraSan: Yep, I've always thought Vanessa was a very strong female character. She may go down but she'll never be down for the count. ;-)

Pally: LOL! You know what curiosity did to the cat! ;-)

Cheryl: Thank you, thank you and thank you again! You know you don't have to do this so that makes it all the more special! :-)

**Guilty **

**Chapter 24**

Joe sat on the living room floor, surrounded by many wayward pieces of paper. There was a pattern here, he knew there was. Agent Wells had told the investigators as much. Chris Taylor had planned everything else with precision; he would plan the attacks just as methodically. They all knew the only way to catch him was to break the pattern. Knowing in his heart that his mother, and not Shauna Campbell, had been Taylor's intended victim the other night lent a dire sense of urgency to stopping Taylor once and for all.

Sighing, he leaned back against the couch staring up at the ceiling. Noticing the distinctive pattern in the ceiling plaster, he shook his head in disgust.

'_You're a great detective, Hardy. You can find the repeating bumps and grooves in your living room ceiling but you can't find the man who…'_

Closing his eyes, Joe bit his lip. He still couldn't say the word, even to himself. The very few times he talked openly about it, he still substituted the word 'assault' or 'attack'. Aside from the episode in his father's office when he lost his temper, he just could not say 'Vanessa' and 'rape' in the same sentence.

From down the hall he heard the rapid fire 'tap-tap-tap' of Vanessa's fingers flying over the keyboard and knew she was writing in the journal Dr. Jennings had suggested she keep. At first, she was resistant to the idea of purposely thinking about the rape and how it had affected her. She just wanted to forget it ever happened and get on with her life. She wanted everything to be the way it used to be. Sadly, she had come to realize things would never be the same again; her life, and Joe's had been permanently altered.

With encouragement from both Joe and Dr. Jennings, she had begun the journal a few days earlier and was surprised at how much it helped. Joe's patience had been endless as he listened to her rant, rave, scream, yell and cry – whatever she needed to do to make it through the day. But even in her current state of confusion and depression, there was an invisible line she would not cross with him. She knew there were things she needed to say, feelings she needed to express, that Joe simply would not be able to handle.

He had been by her side, holding tightly to her hand, when she gave her statement to the police. His facial expression never changed but with each graphic detail she had been forced to describe, his body language and the look in his eyes left no doubt in anyone's mind that he was on the verge of a total melt down. She had found out, in a round about way, that when he had left her room that day, Joe had gone out into the hall and completely broken down, sobbing in Franks arms. She felt there wasn't much she could control in her life these days, but she could control never having to put Joe through that again. Her journal was one way to ensure that. She had the freedom to voice her thoughts and fears without worrying she would hurt him again.

'_She must have a lot to say today,'_ Joe thought as the tapping of the keys continued. At Vanessa's request, after going to the hospital to see Shauna, they had stopped at _Prito's _for lunch. Joe had been so proud of the way she had handled herself today and made sure to let her know it. _'The least I can do for her is catch the son of a bitch.'_

He glanced back down at the mass of papers surrounding him, getting more depressed by the second. _'Who are you kidding? There are a lot more people working on this who are much better than you are at deciphering these patterns. Frank can't even figure it out, what makes you think you can?'_ he berated himself.

He let his head drop forward, hoping to release some of the tension in his neck and shoulders. He hadn't even realized the typing had stopped until Vanessa settled onto the couch behind him. She reached down, resting her hands on his shoulders. The muscles beneath her hands were rock hard and very tight. She could almost feel the tension emanating from them. Slowly she pressed her thumbs into his shoulders, making small circles, varying the amount of pressure she used.

The previous year when she had asked Joe what he wanted for his birthday, he had jokingly replied he wanted her take a massage class so she could help him relax after a hard workout at the gym. To his surprise and delight, she had done just that. Ten minutes later she leaned forward, letting her arms fall down around his neck.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Mmm-hmm," came the muffled reply. A few seconds later he leaned his head back, resting it in her lap. "Thanks, Babe."

"Anytime." She leaned down and kissed him, only to be interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

Vanessa sat up and rolled her eyes reaching for the phone. "What lousy timing," she muttered.

_'Today is full of surprises!'_ Joe thought raising his eyebrows. Sequestering herself in the apartment and refusing to acknowledge anyone other then Joe or her mother, Vanessa had not even answered the phone since coming home from the hospital.

"Hello?" Vanessa said softly. After getting no response, she repeated the greeting a little louder.

"Vanessa?" It was Callie's surprised voice. She had fully expected Joe to answer the phone.

"Yeah, believe it or not it's me." She squeezed Joe's shoulder, smiling down at him.

"Wow, I didn't expect…I mean it's been so long…" Callie was uncharacteristically tripping over her words. "I'm sorry, Van. I was just so surprised that you answered the phone."

"I know. I guess I just figured it was time I started to rejoin civilization." Ruffling Joe's hair affectionately, she untangled her long legs and pushed herself up off the couch. Wandering over to the sliding glass door, she stared out at the late afternoon sky and continued her conversation with Callie.

Smiling with relief at this small sign of normalcy, Joe picked up the papers in front of him and resumed the task of trying to break the pattern of attacks. After another hour of studying the information on the papers that surrounded him, Joe let out a heavy sigh of frustration.

Vanessa, having ended her phone conversation, was once again looking out the sliding glass door. She glanced back at Joe.

"Why don't you come over here and look at this," she smiled at him.

Getting to his feet, Joe walked over to Vanessa and stood behind her. Tentatively he put his arms around her neck. Unless she approached him first, he was still a little unsure of when it was okay to touch her and when it might set her off. Much to his surprise, she removed his arms from around her neck and wrapped them securely around her waist, leaning back against him.

Prior to the rape, Joe would often enthusiastically grab Vanessa from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and enveloping her in a tight embrace. However, when Vanessa was attempting to escape the night she was raped, Chris Taylor had grabbed her around the waist and savagely thrown her to the ground. Her first day home from the hospital when Joe put his arms around her waist thinking it would be a familiar, comforting gesture, she had nearly jumped out of her skin. Within seconds, she was huddled on the floor crying and begging him not to touch her. He had cursed himself mercilessly that day and every time he thought about it since. He had been with her when she gave her statement to the police and listened to every horrible detail of that night. He felt he should have known better and still had not forgiven himself for that mistake.

"Look at that," she said softly. "Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

Following her gaze, Joe looked out at the incredible pinks and purples of the late afternoon sunset.

"Actually, it's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he whispered and then kissed her on the cheek. "You're the first."

Vanessa pulled his arms tighter around her and leaned her head back for another kiss.

"Thank you," she said, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"For what? I haven't done anything."

"Loving me. Supporting me. Letting me take out all my anger on you." She looked up at him. "I'd say that's something…that's everything." She turned to face him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Joe. I haven't said it nearly enough. I never would have survived this without you."

"For better or worse, Baby. That's what the vows say."

"We haven't taken them yet," Vanessa reminded him.

"I'm practicing," he grinned at her as the intercom buzzer announced a visitor.

"It's Callie. I invited her over," Vanessa told him. "You know - gossip, girl talk." She giggled in response to his raised eyebrows.

_'That giggle!'_ he looked upwards as if praying. _'Thank you! I thought I'd never hear it again!'_

Answering the knock on the door, Vanessa greeted Callie with a warm hug.

"I'll go in the other room so you two can gossip in private," Joe said collecting his papers. He kissed Vanessa and gave Callie a quick hug before disappearing down the hall.

Sitting at the desk, Joe once again began sifting through the details of the case. Hoping that a fresh start would give him a new perspective, he listed the day and date of each rape, studying the information for what seemed like the hundredth time. Although some of the rapes were committed on the same day of each week, not all of them were. The number of days between each attack was also not the same. Sometimes two days, sometimes four, sometimes six. Joe blinked and looked again.

_'Two, four, six?'_

An idea began to take shape as he started a new list, this time with three columns:

**Angel Beach 1 rape**

**Southport 2 rapes each, 2 days apart**

**Kirkland 3 rapes each, 4 days apart**

**Bayport 4 rapes each, 6 days apart**

Looking over this new list, he felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. He knew that according to the established pattern, Taylor had planned to commit four rapes in Bayport. If he was right about this, the next rape would be six days after the last one. He immediately dialed his father.

"Fenton Hardy."

"Dad, I think I figured out the pattern!" Joe said excitedly.

"Hold on. Let me see if I can conference Frank in." Fenton was just as excited that Joe had initiated the phone call as he was about the fact that they may now have the break they needed to catch Taylor.

Joe waited on hold for a moment then heard his fathers voice again. "Joe? Frank is here. What have you got?"

"Okay, the first rape was in Angel Beach. The next two were in Southport. The first one was two days after the Angel Beach attack. The second was two days after that. The next three were in Kirkland. The first one was four days after the last Southport attack. The next one was four days after that and the third one four days after that. The first one in Bayport was…" _'Vanessa!'_ He paused a moment and took a deep breath. "That one was six days after the last attack in Kirkland. The next one here, Shauna, was six days after that. If I'm right about the pattern the next one will be…"

"…six days after that!" Frank finished for him excitedly.

"So," Fenton began to recap what Joe had just told them. "After the initial attack in Angel Beach, the next two, both in Southport, were each two days apart. The next three, all in Kirkland were each four days apart. So far, the ones here have each been six days apart. And if he follows this pattern he intends to commit two more rapes here."

"Each six days apart!" Frank reiterated. "That's his pattern. Two days apart, move on to the next city. Those are four days apart. Move on to the next city. Those are six days apart…Joe, this is great! We can catch this guy in three days!"

"Good job, Joe," Fenton said proudly. "Based on what Agent Wells said, I think we were all expecting something more complicated."

"Yeah, that must be why I was able to figure it out. It wasn't too complicated," Joe replied sarcastically, the initial excitement of his discovery having worn off very quickly. "After all, I'm no Phil Cohen." Joe knew it was a cheap shot, but he was still stung by his brother's dishonesty. He wanted both Frank and his father to know he was not about to forgive and forget with no explanation for their behavior.

After an awkward silence, Fenton spoke again in a much more subdued tone.

"I'll call Jeff and Chief Collig and arrange for a briefing tomorrow morning. Can you call Andrea, Joe? I really want you to be there."

"You bet I'll be there. It's the only way I can be sure I know what's going on."

"Joe, listen to me…" his father began.

"Call me when you know what time the briefing will be. Goodbye."

Joe hung and leaned back in the chair. He had so many conflicting emotions fighting to get out he sometimes felt like he didn't know which way was up. He missed his brother desperately but also felt he could no longer trust him. He hadn't meant to make that crack about Phil just then, but sometimes his anger and emotions got the better of him and he found himself saying things without thinking. Still, he was not about to let Frank forget how he felt about being pushed aside and replaced in what was the most important investigation they had ever taken on. Reaching for the phone, he called Andrea to ask if she could stay with Vanessa the next morning.

…

Later that evening as they were getting ready for bed, Joe told Vanessa he would be gone for a few hours the next morning to attend a briefing at the police station. He did not want to tell her more until everyone involved agreed on the pattern and a plan of action.

"I already called your Mom. She'll be here first thing in the morning." When Vanessa didn't say anything, he continued. "Unless you don't think you need her here. I can call her back and…"

"No!" Vanessa said quickly. "I admit today was probably my best day so far but let's not get carried away." She gave him a little smile. "I'd still rather not be alone just yet."

Joe opened his arms and Vanessa let herself be swallowed up in his warm, protective embrace. "What you did today took a lot of guts and you handled it all with such class. I am so proud of you."

"Thanks, but I couldn't have done it without you. I know you weren't crazy about the idea but you supported me anyway. Thanks for believing in me."

"Always, Baby. I'll always believe in you."

"Joe? Do you think you can catch him before he hurts someone else?" Vanessa asked quietly.

Joe pulled away just enough to look at her. Although she had begun to laugh and smile again over the past two days, the fear was still clearly evident in her eyes.

"I'll know more after the briefing tomorrow, but I have a really good feeling about this. I think we can catch him before he has a chance to hurt anyone else. I'll do my best, Baby. I promise."

After coming home from the hospital, Vanessa had told Joe her biggest fear was that the man who had raped her would come back and attack her again. Prior to receiving the anonymous letter, when Joe thought Vanessa had been just another victim chosen at random, he had tried to reassure her that was unlikely to happen. The chilling letters he and Fenton had received made it clear to him that her fears might very well be justified. Since she had not wanted to leave their apartment, he felt there was little chance of that happening. He had not told her about the letters and hoped he would never have to. However, now that she seemed to be regaining an interest in the outside world, he might have no choice. Joe knew that would erase all the progress she had made in the last two days. The urgency he felt to catch Taylor had increased dramatically.

'_Your days are numbered, Taylor,'_ he said to himself. _'Start looking over your shoulder, because I'm coming for you.'_


	25. Chapter 25

Alicia: As always, your reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside – and make me laugh out loud! I'm so glad you like my version of Vanessa! The Casefiles gave her a bit more of a personality than most of the other recurring characters but still left a lot of room for 'interpretation'. As for Frank and Joe's rift – see my note at the end of this chapter. ;-)

Lina: Thank you! I always thought Callie got a raw deal in the Casefiles the way they wrote her. Plus if she really was as they portrayed her, I don't think Frank would stick with someone like that. So I wrote her as the kind of girl I think Frank would be attracted to and want to spend the rest of his life with.

Polaris: Thanks for all your reviews! :-)

TraSan: It's gotta get a little worse between Frank, Fenton and Joe before it gets better, but I promise – it WILL get better! I'm a happy ending kinda girl, although sometimes it takes me a while to get there. :-)

Phoenix: You're TOO KIND!! :-p Copy, paste, repeat…

Sherlock's Sparrow: Actually you might be surprised…

Pally: Woof, woof, woof… Sorry, I have no idea what the 'meow's were all about but thanks for reading!! :-)

**Guilty**

**Chapter 25**

Two days earlier every investigator, detective and police officer involved in the case had met for a final briefing. Fenton Hardy had explained what had led to their zeroing on Chris Taylor as the number one suspect, leaving out any references to Joe or the grudge Taylor was carrying against him. Joe had then discussed the pattern Taylor had been using as to when each rape would be committed. Since they now knew when Taylor would strike next, they had been able to come up with a plan of action to catch him. If Joe were correct, this would be their best chance to stop Taylor once and for all.

Frank, Fenton and Joe, along with many of their friends were assembled in the briefing room of the Bayport Police Department. Many of the department's officers, several who whom were off duty, were there as well. Quite a few of the officers knew Vanessa through Joe and had been outraged when she was assaulted. When the 15-year-old girl had become Taylor's second victim in Bayport, the entire department vowed to catch him before he raped again.

"Dad, do you think he'll really be out there tonight?" Frank asked referring to Taylor. "We know he was after Mom last week. With her and Callie staying with Vanessa tonight, do you think he'll really go after someone else if he can't find them?"

"He did last time. I hate to sound callous but I hope he does. It's the only chance we've got to catch him," Fenton replied, looking wistfully across the room at Joe who was talking quietly with Biff and Chet. He had barely acknowledged Frank and Fenton when they had arrived that night, instead quickly making his way to his best friend, where he had remained.

Chief Collig walked in and strode to the front of the room, which grew quiet.

"First, I want to thank all of you who are here on your own time," Chief Collig addressed the group. "As you know, Joe Hardy was able to determine the pattern the suspect uses as to when he will commit his next assault. If he stays true to form - and we have no reason to believe he won't - he will attack again tonight."

Frank glanced over at Joe. He was staring straight ahead, very obviously avoiding any contact with Frank or his father. Frank wanted so badly to tell his brother everything no matter what the consequences. Their relationship had deteriorated to the point where he was afraid that Joe would never trust him again, even after he learned the truth. He returned his attention to Chief Collig who was reading off the partner assignments for the search.

"Biff, you'll be with Chet. Joe, you're with Evan Graham. Frank, you'll be riding with your father."

Frank felt an incredible sadness wash over him. He hadn't really expected that he and Joe would be investigating together that evening but he had still held out a little hope. After hearing Joe had been paired with one of the officers on Bayport's police force, Frank knew that meant Joe had specifically requested not to be paired with either Frank or Fenton.

"You'll each be covering a section of the city." Chief Collig had finished reading off the list of names. "You'll check in with dispatch every fifteen minutes. Report anything even remotely suspicious. If you do find him, call for back up immediately." He over emphasized the last word looking directly at Joe. "Okay, let's catch this guy tonight."

Everyone stood up and headed for the door. Frank hurried to catch up to his brother.

"Joe," he called out. Joe stopped and waited for Frank. "Don't worry, Joe. We'll catch this guy tonight."

"I know we will," Joe replied. The coldness in his voice sent a shiver down Frank's spine, as he wasn't sure if it was directed at him, Taylor or both of them.

"Be careful, Joe. Please be careful."

Joe nodded and turned to follow Evan Graham out the door.

oooOOOooo

Other than checking in with the dispatcher every fifteen minutes, Frank and Fenton had ridden in silence. Fenton had watched the close relationship between his sons steadily deteriorate and felt powerless to stop it. He knew it was eating Frank up inside to have to lie to his brother. That, combined with the same guilt Fenton had been feeling for not catching Taylor before he arrived in Bayport was driving the brothers apart.

After the attack on Vanessa, Joe had immediately turned to his older brother for help. He had been totally devastated and at a loss as to how to help Vanessa. He was desperately counting on Frank to steer him in the right direction. Frank had been thrown way off balance watching his brother try to deal with all the emotional pain. When Joe started having the flashbacks and Frank had to begin lying to him about Josh Tilghman and Chris Taylor it resulted in a quick downward spiral for both brothers. Fenton was deathly afraid Joe was going to find Taylor first and end up doing something in a blind rage that would change his life forever. He had hoped Frank would be able to regain his footing enough to restore his close relationship with Joe before that happened, but it wasn't to be.

"Dad, I have a really bad feeling about tonight," Frank finally spoke.

"How so?" Fenton asked.

"I can't explain it. I feel like something is going to happen tonight that can't be fixed. Something bad. Dad, I'm really scared for Joe."

Fenton knew exactly what Frank meant. He had had the same feeling all night but did not want to fuel his son's fears.

"Evan is a good cop, Frank. He won't let Joe do anything stupid."

"I don't know, Dad. I still feel like I should have ridden with Joe tonight. I know him better than anybody."

"It was his choice to ride with someone else," Fenton said quietly. "He knows right from wrong. We have to believe if the time comes, he'll think with his head and not with his heart."

They rode in silence once again, both very afraid of what the night held in store.

oooOOOooo

Joe and Evan had been checking in every fifteen minutes as instructed. Joe was doing everything by the book. He knew his father and brother – heck, the entire town – thought he would take justice into his own hands given half a chance. He was determined to prove them all wrong. As angry as he was with Frank and his father, he still desperately wanted their approval.

'_I'm going to catch this guy tonight. Everything by the book. Don't worry, big brother, I'm going to make you and Dad proud.'_

Evan slowed the car and Joe snapped back to reality. Someone up ahead was flagging them down. Evan pulled up to the curb as Joe rolled down the window.

A middle-aged man approached the car. "Hi."

"Can we help you?" Joe asked.

"Well, it's probably nothing but what with those two rapes that happened recently I thought I should say something."

Joe felt a rush of adrenaline. "Go on," he said encouragingly.

"Well, a minute ago I saw a guy carrying a woman towards a car. I stopped to see if I could help. He seemed startled for just a second. He said she was his girlfriend and had fallen down and hit her head. She was pretty out of it; she kept saying something over and over. I could have sworn she was saying, _"Help"_, but the guy insisted she was just mumbling nonsense. He put her in the backseat and said he was taking her to the hospital. But there was just something strange about him."

"Strange how?" Joe pressed.

"I don't know how to describe it. I mean if my wife fell and hit her head that badly I would be pretty upset. He seemed really calm about the whole thing. He's driving a dark colored Lexus. Turned right at the light up there. Thing is, the hospital is in the other direction."

"Thanks. We'll check it out," Joe replied as Evan was already pulling away. He turned in the direction the man had indicated and proceeded slowly down the deserted street.

"Evan," Joe said with growing excitement. "This road leads straight to the old warehouse complex. It hasn't been used since they opened the new warehouses down by the docks last year."

Evan smiled grimly. "I think we're about to catch our man."

When they got close to the warehouse, Evan cut the lights and engine, gliding to a stop. They got out of the car without making a sound.

Guns drawn, Joe and Evan walked silently towards the rear of the abandoned warehouse. As they got closer, they could hear a frightened female voice.

"Please stop! Please don't do this!"

Rounding the corner, they saw a young woman pinned to the ground by a man who was kneeling over her tearing at her clothes. A small, but steady stream of blood was flowing from somewhere at the back of her head. Obviously disoriented, she still pleaded with the man to stop what he was doing, ineffectively trying to defend herself.

Joe stood in shock for just a moment. In his mind, the woman on the ground was Vanessa. The burning rage he'd kept just below the surface for so long finally exploded.

'_Taylor!'_ he thought. He had never seen the enhanced photo of Chris Taylor. He didn't even know it existed but he knew instinctively this was him.

"You take the girl and call for back up," he whispered to Evan. "He's mine." Joe immediately started moving forward quietly.

"Let me get some back up first, Joe." Evan tried to grab Joe's arm, but Joe had no intention of waiting. Taylor was right in front of him. There was no way he was going to stand by and watch him rape this woman, or give him the opportunity to escape, while waiting for help to arrive. Shaking off Evan's hand, Joe continued moving towards Taylor.

"Joe!" Evan hissed at him. "Stop!"

Taylor must have heard them as he stopped for just instant, obviously surprised at the intrusion. Since he had his back to Joe and Evan, they couldn't see what he was doing. Suddenly there was a flash of movement and small stones and pebbles came flying at them. As they threw up their arms to avoid being pelted with the small, hard objects, Taylor jumped up and ran for a car parked several yards away.

Joe immediately sprang forward, leaping over the young woman still on the ground. He knew Evan would take care of her. He could already hear Evan calling for back up and an ambulance.

Sprinting forward, Joe was determined not to let Taylor get away.

'_Come on, Hardy. Faster!'_

With a powerful burst of strength, he launched himself at Taylor and they came crashing down together against the trunk of the car. Glancing at the car, Joe realized it was the same car that had stopped to "help" Vanessa a week earlier. Spinning Taylor around, Joe pointed the gun at him. Immediately Taylor grabbed the gun with both hands, attempting to turn it on Joe.

As they continued to struggle for control of the gun, Joe could hear sirens getting closer.

'_Come on, hurry! I could use some help here!'_

He did not dare glance back over his shoulder to see what Evan was doing; that would easily give Taylor the advantage he needed. Unfortunately, leaning over him, leverage was not on Joe's side. He knew if he could just get control of the gun he could overpower the smaller man.

Joe now heard car doors opening and slamming shut behind him. New voices. He could pick out his father's voice and Frank's.

'_Finally!'_ he thought.

Still he did not look back to see what was happening behind him. He thought he was slowly getting the upper hand and did not want to lose it.

As both men tried desperately to get control of the gun, Joe felt Taylor loosen his grip for just a second. He took full advantage and readjusted his grip on the gun.

'_YES!'_ he exulted.

He now had a firm grip on the gun, pointed directly at Taylor's chest, his finger hovering over the trigger. They looked each other in the eyes and in that instant they both knew Joe had won.

Joe thought back on the horror Vanessa's life had become since this man had attacked her. His bubbly, outgoing fiancée who was so full of life was gone. A fearful, withdrawn, depressed girl had taken her place.

'_All because of you!'_ Joe thought filled with hatred.

He realized this was the moment he had been hoping for. This animal who had attacked and brutalized so many women, including the woman he loved, was now at his mercy. Joe knew several other units had arrived, answering Evan's call for help. He knew his father and brother were back there.

He also knew none of them could see what was happening. They all knew there was a struggle going on with a gun separating Joe and Taylor. Knowing Joe could be shot in a struggle, no one would move forward to help until and unless Joe requested it. Joe had Taylor right where he wanted him. He could pull the trigger right now, getting the revenge he so desperately wanted and no one would know it wasn't self-defense. They wouldn't even question it. Joe could take the secret to his grave, knowing he got his own form of justice for Vanessa in the end.

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger," Taylor said quietly, looking Joe in the eyes. "You know you want to."

Joe started to tremble slightly.

"Come on, you don't want me to go to prison. You know I'll get out eventually, this being my first offense and all. They'll try to rehabilitate me," he smiled.

All the pain and anguish Joe had been watching Vanessa suffer through fueled his rage. Taylor was pushing all the right buttons and Joe was losing control.

"But it won't work you know. I like it. I enjoy it. The power I have. Listening to them _beg_ me not to do it. Beg for their lives. That just makes me want it even more."

Joe thought of Vanessa begging, pleading for her life. He couldn't even begin to imagine how terrified she must have been.

"When I get out – and I will get out –I'll do it again. Maybe I'll even come back here. I've really enjoyed the women in your town. Especially your fiancée."

Joe felt himself beginning to squeeze the trigger ever so slightly.

"She wasn't just another random choice, you know. I wanted her all along," Taylor continued baiting Joe. "I was hoping to get your mother too, the other night. And then your sister-in-law to make the payback complete. Knowing it was all your fault, your dad and brother wouldn't be able to stand the sight of you."

Joe was shaking now, applying more pressure on the trigger.

"That's it, buddy. A little more and I'll be dead. You won't ever have to worry about me again."

Suddenly Frank's voice broke through Joe's thoughts of murder and revenge.

"Don't do it, Joe! That's what he wants you to do. You'll be giving him exactly what he wants! He's not worth it!"

Taylor's smile disappeared. "Don't listen to him. Come on, you'll be a hero to that pretty little fiancée of yours. And every other woman I ever touched."

Was that desperation Joe heard in his voice?

"Think about it, Joe." It was Frank's voice again. "Once he gets to prison, he'll know exactly how his victims felt."

Joe smiled slightly and looked Taylor in the eyes. Fear!

'_Oh, yeah!'_ Joe thought. That was the same look he had been seeing in Vanessa's eyes ever since the attack. Joe stared him down.

"You're going to prison where you'll get exactly what you deserve! You'll get to feel the same things all those women felt, every night."

"You mean the same thing YOU were supposed to feel all those years ago?!" Taylor suddenly yelled, seething with anger. "If you had just done what you were told! If your father hadn't come charging in like some kind of hero, none of us would be here right now! None of those women would have been raped! How does it feel to have that on your conscience?!"

Everyone could hear Fenton gasp. "NO!" he shouted. "Don't listen to him, Joe! He's crazy!"

Taylor looked past Joe directly at Fenton, realization dawning on him.

"He doesn't remember, does he?" Taylor smiled evilly, as Fenton visibly paled even in the dark. "Oh, that's just priceless. What – too traumatic for him?" he continued taunting Fenton. "Why don't I tell him all about it? It's obvious you haven't. Now seems like a pretty good time, don't you think?"

Joe was utterly confused at the bizarre exchange between his father and Taylor, but he knew what he had to do. Still holding the gun on him, Joe took a step back. In a strong, clear voice he said, "Put your hands on your head, turn around and kneel on the ground."

"I don't think so." Taylor replied in a voice so low only Joe could hear him. With an evil smile he continued. "You'll be the one going to prison…for my murder. It may have taken seventeen years but at least I'll die knowing you got exactly what my father had intended for you all along. You can thank your Daddy for all this."

He then raised his voice again so he would be heard by everyone. "Okay, you win," he said loudly. "I give up."

Taylor started to raise his hands towards his head. With lightening fast speed that took Joe completely by surprise, he reached forward, wrapped his hands around Joe's and pressed his thumb down firmly against Joe's trigger finger. As the gun discharged with a deafening roar, Taylor looked Joe in the eyes and smiled. He flew back against the car and slid to the ground.

Joe realized with horror that Taylor had just committed suicide – although it appeared to the world as if Joe had killed a defenseless, unarmed suspect in cold blood. Everyone standing behind Joe assumed they just saw him murder the man who had raped Vanessa, making good on all his threats.

Suddenly everything was silent. It was as if time had stopped. Joe took a few steps back, looking at the gun in his hand as if it had a life of it's own. His shirt and jacket, along with the gun and his hands were splattered with Taylor's blood. He looked down at the man whose eyes were staring sightlessly towards the dark sky. Blood was gushing from the bullet wound in his chest. A small trickle of blood escaped from his mouth and ears, further proof he had been killed instantly.

Frank appeared at Joe's side in stunned disbelief.

"Joe!" he cried out, still unable to believe his own eyes. "What did you do? He surrendered!"

Joe stared at Frank, open-mouthed. Of all people, surely Frank would know Joe could never kill a defenseless person, no matter what the circumstances!

"We had him, Joe! He never would've seen the light of day. He would have died in prison!"

Joe was incredulous. "Frank, I didn't! I didn't kill him!"

"Then who did?" Joe spun around at the sound of his father's voice. Fenton didn't even try to mask the sadness and disappointment he felt. "I know what he did to Vanessa is tearing you apart. But I really thought I raised you better than that."

Joe's world was spinning out of control. The two people he counted on most to believe in him no matter what were turning on him.

"Dad, please!" Joe pleaded with his father. "I didn't pull the trigger! He grabbed my hand. HE pulled the trigger! Dad, he killed himself!"

"He gave up, Joe. We all heard him." Fenton shook his head. "Oh, Joseph…"

Fenton turned and walked away from his youngest son_. 'It wasn't enough you raped Vanessa. It wasn't enough you broke her spirit. He's already starting to remember the hell he went through seventeen years ago. Now you've turned my son into a cold-blooded killer.'_ He got into the car, put his head in his hands and began to cry.

Joe stared after his father.

"I didn't do it, Dad," he whispered. "You did raise me better than that."

He felt a hand on his arm and knew without looking that it was Frank.

"Joe, they need your gun," he said quietly.

"Huh?" Joe turned to face his older brother.

"Evidence, Joe. They need your gun."

An officer Joe didn't recognize was holding a paper evidence bag, waiting for Joe to drop his gun inside. He deposited the gun in the bag and turned to look at Frank.

"You believe me, right? Please, Frank tell me you believe me!" Joe begged him.

Frank hesitated just an instant too long.

"Sure, Joe. I believe you." They both knew he was lying.

Con Riley approached the brothers.

"I am so sorry, Joe. I have to do this." He cleared his throat. "You have the right to remain silent…"

A second officer gently pulled Joe's hands behind his back and handcuffed him. Joe never took his eyes off his brother's face. He'd never felt so alone in his life.

**To Be Continued in **_**Innocent…**_

A/N: First, a great big THANK YOU to everyone who read and reviewed this story! :-) It is so very much appreciated! Now before anyone decides to string me up by my thumbs for the ending, please know that _Innocent_ is already completely written and there will be no break in posting. So the first chapter of _Innocent_ will go up on Sunday.

And for all those who have been waiting for Frank and Joe to work through their 'issues' all I ask is that you continue to read through chapter seven of the sequel. If you still want to string me up after that, I'll provide the rope. ;-)

THANK YOU for being so supportive!! Many times your reviews were the bright spot of my day!


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